WITS  AND  THE 
s~  WOMAN  . 

~m    VIOLET  IRWIN 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 


WITS 
AND  THE  WOMAN 


BY 
VIOLET  IRWIN 

Author  of  "The  Human  Desire" 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

CHRISTINE  T.  CURTISS 


BOSTON 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1919, 
BY  SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 


TO 
MY  FRIENDS  IN  KHAKI 

AND  THEIR  STERN  ADVENTURES 


2136470 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 


CHAPTER  I 

Call  me  one,  if  you  like,  at  the  end  of  the  first 
chapter  and  drop  it.  No  apologies  by  request ;  and  no 
hurt  feelings;  for,  if  I'm  not  prevaricating,  I'm  not 
aiming  to  make  converts  or  to  start  anything  either. 
Societies  of  Coalescent  Souls  and  the  Affinity  Afflatus 
don't  exist  for  little  Clarissa.  They  smack  of  Wash- 
ington Square,  and  she's  spent  enough  of  her  young 
life  in  that  neighborhood,  and  doesn't  hanker  ever 
to  cross  its  mental  or  material  diagonals  again.  So 
this  story  is  just  a  sorting  out,  for  my  own  satis- 
faction, of  the  experiences  of  two  eventful  years; 
and  it's  going  to  be  done  on  my  own  method,  regard- 
less. Of  course  if  you  clap  several  thousand  words 
between  two  covers,  it  becomes  a  book,  and  the  author 
thereof  breaks  into  the  literary  ring.  I  can't  dodge  the 
issue.  But  I'd  hate  to  think  of  anybody  wasting  a 
dollar  and  a  half  on  my  account  and  being  disap- 
pointed, so  I'll  tell  the  high-brows  right  off  the  bat 
—  this  is  no  place  for  them. 

My  tale  is  a  good  tale,  a  ninety-five  horse  power, 
twelve-cylinder  scooter.  It  gyrates  the  whole  spec- 
trum in  color ;  but  there's  no  more  art  about  it  than  in 
a  cubist  statue ;  the  plot  resembles  most  a  ragged  bunch 
of  cold  slaw ;  and  as  for  morality  in  the  events  —  I 


2  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

was  riding  on  Fate's  Twentieth  Century  Limited,  and 
I  don't  pretend  to  justify  myself  for  every  cinder  that 
flew  out  of  the  stack. 

The  Scientists  said  I  was  only  a  poll  parrot  any- 
way, speaking  from  the  mouth  out  and  not  to  blame; 
for  mine,  I'm  willing  to  be  a  cuckoo,  or  a  mocking- 
bird, or  a  blue  jay,  or  any  other  protectorate  of  the 
Audubon  Society,  so  long  as  the  impersonation  lands 
me  on  a  gilded  perch.  Every  time  I  look  around  our 
coop,  from  its  double-decked  studio  living  rooms  to  the 
super  clothes  closets  —  meaning  those  spacious  apart- 
ments where  we  park  our  duds  —  I  keep  on  saying 
over  and  over  to  myself :  "  Truth  sure  is  stranger  than 
fiction !  "  Scaling  mental  platitudes  is  about  all  the 
exercise  "  Poor  Poll  "  gets  these  days.  I  miss  effort 
as  I  missed  Henri  de  Grasse;  I  missed  Henri  like  an 
aching  tooth  extracted  —  but  more  of  that  —  and  I 
didn't  realize  the  ingrowingness  of  regular  work. 

Take  it  -from  me,  the  stalled  ox  has  a  dull  time. 
Getting  out  of  harness  into  depths  of  luxurious  ease, 
and  sitting  still  there  long  enough  for  the  dollar  barna- 
cles to  encrust  habit  so  that  manners  can't  skid,  is 
no  cinch.  Perpetual  loafing  is  right  classy,  and  I'm 
for  it  —  in  my  old  age  —  but  to  fill  an  hour  till  the 
worst  labor-hunger  passes,  just  to  buck  me  up  against 
boredom,  I've  decided  to  unstring  those  "  beads  of 
perspiration  on  a  thread  of  memory,"  as  Terry  calls 
Henri's  life  and  mine  together,  and  make  a  pattern 
of  them.  I  could  do  it  a  conspicuous  sight  better 
with  Henri's  help,  if  that  might  be.  De  Grasse  had 
education  backing  him  in  every  move;  and,  though 
sometimes  hazy  about  the  end,  he  was  always  perfectly 
sure  of  his  beginnings.  He  always  preferred  to  look 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  3 

upon  an  incident,  no  matter  how  final  or  unfortunate, 
as  the  beginning  of  something  else.  Now  I  come  to 
think  of  it  that  may  have  started  us  off  together. 

On  my  side  I  can't  find  beginning  or  reason  for 
things  except  the  weather.  Since  my  very  first  tilt 
with  circumstances,  I'm  strong  on  the  weather;  I 
never  neglect  it  even  in  social  conversation  —  a  quid 
pro  quo  for  the  good  turn  old  Sol  did  me  when  he  fox- 
trotted up  the  horizon  off  schedule,  and  filled  a  gray 
October  morn  mad-full  of  ecstasy.  Weather  caused 
Miss  Stacy,  head  woman  on  Bain  &  Dingley's  pay 
roll,  to  forget;  led  a  youth  of  impeccable  character 
into  philandering;  and  for  me  —  Clarissa  Kendall  — 
it  turned  the  bag  of  tricks  right  upside  down.  But 
first,  it  filled  me  with  a  mighty  discontent. 

In  those  days  there  was  no  such  thing  for  this 
child  as  getting  out  of  bed  the  wrong  way,  because 
one  edge  of  my  cot  stood  hard  and  fast  against  the 
wall  of  a  six  by  six  pill-box  on  the  top  floor  of  Madame 
Buniva's  establishment ;  and  the  other  wasn't  quite 
clear,  being  partly  flanked  by  a  dresser  at  the  head. 
No  coruscating  luxury  illuminated  that  room  or  its 
belongings,  or  its  tenant,  or  its  tenant's  life.  Barn- 
acles chipped  off  naturally  there  against  the  corners  of 
the  furniture ;  and  habit  gathered  momentum  from  the 
dollar  alarm  clock  at  precisely  six,  rain  or  shine. 
Everything  had  to  be  done  ship-shape.  My  toilet 
routine  grew  into  a  marvel  of  efficiency,  each  action 
highly  specialized  toward  saving  time  and  not  over- 
crowding space  where  it  didn't  exist.  Day  began  by 
sliding  cold  feet  from  under  a  crazy  quilt  to  the  once- 
was  Brussels  rug,  and  rising  instanter.  Lying,  one 
filled  the  bed  and  got  the  worth  of  one's  money, 


4  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

but  at  Buniva's  I  always  felt  best  in  the  perpen- 
dicular —  insufficient  nourishment  had  created  stand- 
ing shadows.  I've  got  to  hand  it  to  Madame  for 
making  her  boarders  fit  into  their  niches.  Flesh  would 
never  have  been  able  to  navigate  her  halls,  or  squeeze 
past  other  fleshies  to  its  own  place  at  the  frugal 
board. 

It's  a  joke  all  I  accomplished  in  the  little  bit  of 
less  than  nothing,  my  center  floor,  lighted  only  from 
aloft.  The  first  job  that  glorious  day  was  to  dive 
under  the  bed,  drag  out  an  ironing  board  and  "  do  up  " 
my  best  waist  which  had  been  washed  over  night. 
"  Cleanliness  is  next  to  godliness,"  had  been  one  of 
Granny's  favorite  maxims,  and  the  old  lady  was  pretty 
nearly  right  all  through  life,  except  in  mistaking  a 
gravel  pit  for  a  farm.  Cleanliness  is  next  to  godli- 
ness, but  the  poet  neglected  to  indicate  which  side, 
and  as  touching  honors  are  the  same  value,  I  took  the 
liberty  of  playing  them  in  my  own  order  after  I 
came  to  New  York  —  just  about  the  time  I  began 
wearing  my  Sunday  clothes  every  day.  Fifth  Avenue 
proves  how  easy  style  can  dispense  with  beauty,  but 
like  as  not  beauty  will  get  the  look  over  without 
style.  The  first  slant  I  took  at  myself  in  a  plate  glass 
window  I  knew  Clarissa  had  a  chance  of  both,  and 
then  it  was  me  for  the  rags. 

Don't  get  me  wrong.  I  was  never  silly  about  dress 
or  empty  headed  —  quite  the  contrary.  With  provo- 
cation I  could  feel  big  things  even  then  —  a  bursting 
sort  of  fullness  inside  —  music  brought  it  on,  and 
colors  and  ideas.  Some  folks  gas  about  aspiration, 
and  I  fancy  that's  the  tag.  Weather  does  the  same 
sort  of  thing  to  one.  Had  I  been  able  to  throw  up  a 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  5 

sash  and  wallow  in  that  grand  October  breeze,  I  might 
have  got  intoxicated  with  the  rest.  But  I  put  it  to 
you  —  did  anybody  ever  aspire  through  a  skylight? 
Instead,  I  was  just  fair  peeved.  By  whirlwinding 
through  breakfast  I  could  make  a  few  minutes  extra 
to  amble  to  the  shop;  I'd  have  to  stand  there  all  day, 
selling  to  lucky  parasites  what  my  own  vanity  craved 
something  awful;  and  by  closing  time  the  sun  would 
have  scadoodled.  Who  says  discontent  isn't  high 
proof  of  reason? 

Bain  &  Dingley's,  the  world  where  I  worked,  strad- 
dles a  side  street  and  fills  two  city  blocks  with  merchan- 
dise. Its  closed  bridges,  connecting  the  old  and  new 
buildings,  lend  it  the  appearance  of  a  massive  hour- 
glass tipped  over ;  but,  though  the  great  store  sprawls, 
it  is  full  of  dignity,  and  its  isolation  is  its  strength. 
Fashion  pouring  through  those  bridges,  daily,  north 
and  south,  and  the  cross-currents  of  wealth  passing 
under  them  in  every  type  of  motor  car,  would  make  the 
legendary  hoards  of  Bagdad  look  like  thirty  cents. 
My  arrival  was,  of  course,  timed  too  early  for  the 
glittering  show.  The  grim  stone  buildings  at  that  hour 
frowned  prisonlike  on  waking  business,  with  blue 
blinds  still  drawn,  nursing  their  emptiness. 

Fine  days  everybody  naturally  stayed  outside  till 
the  last  tick,  and  then  tried  to  jam  in  all  together  and 
pull  the  time  clocks  on  the  minute.  Miss  Stacy  got 
into  the  middle  of  our  mob,  and  I  had  a  chance  to 
glare  at  her  well-tailored  back.  Not  that  I  wanted 
to  be  in  her  shoes  —  managers  and  floor  walkers  are 
only  the  cornbeef  and  cabbage  of  society,  and  I  always 
had  a  taste  for  caviare.  But  she  was  running  in  a 
rut  miles  wider  than  mine  and  I  respected  her.  I 


6  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

guess  I  was  the  most  surprised  of  the  lot  when  I 
found  how  near  she  came  to  a  cropper  that  after- 
noon. 

Seats  of  the  mighty  offer  one  advantage  —  there's 
some  come  and  go  about  them.  The  king  doesn't  have 
to  sit  on  his  throne  and  wear  his  trimmings  all  day, 
whereas  the  lackey  does.  Our  bosses  and  the  sub- 
bosses  might  by  extra  effort  get  off  earlier ;  so  the  heads 
dug  into  their  work  as  conspicuously  as  the  cash-girls 
slacked.  Stacy  seemed  to  be  rooting  hardest  of  the 
bunch.  She  had  burrowed  through  a  stack  of  papers 
cluttering  her  desk,  and  was  throwing  the  last  sheets 
out  with  her  hind  feet,  glancing  at  her  wrist  watch 
now  and  then,  and  barking  orders  short  and  snappy, 
when  "  Ting-a-ling-a-ling !  "  went  the  standing  'phone 
at  her  elbow,  and  the  hand  of  Fate  lammed  her.  The 
lightning  struck  noiselessly,  only  a  concise  message  in 
a  gentlemanly  voice :  "  Lady  Deering  asks  me  to  tell 
you  she  will  be  a  few  minutes  late."  Yet  the  shock 
nearly  shattered  Miss  Stacy's  reputation.  It  blasted 
her  clear  out  of  her  seat;  and  the  thunder  began  to 
rumble  in  about  six  seconds ! 

Bain  &  Dingley  prided  themselves  on  selling  every- 
thing under  the  sun.  You  could  have  bought  a  dread- 
naught  there  or  a  dozen  of  strictly  commercial  sub- 
marines—  if  you  had  thought  to  order  them!  But 
one  thing  they  held  without  money  or  price  —  tickets 
to  their  own  theatre.  These  were  given  away;  sent 
out  in  gold-crested  envelopes  as  thick  as  blotting 
paper,  and  only  to  the  ultra  smart  customers  carry- 
ing accounts  in  four  and  five  figures.  The  theatre  it- 
self was  a  gem,  rigged  up  in  the  heart  of  the  new 
building  with  a  regular  drop  curtain  and  sloping  floor, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  7 

like  the  best  in  New  York,  only  that  around  the 
orchestra,  level  with  the  seats  behind  and  with  the 
boxes  in  front,  ran  a  wide  platform  set  out  with  comfy, 
loafy  chairs  and  tea  tables  bearing  dinky  little  cards 
that  offered  the  best  tips  on  sandwiches  and  pastries 
and  no  price  mentioned  —  just  the  swellest  ever. 

The  entertainments  given  in  this  doll's  play-house 
were  a  special  feature  of  our  firm's  advertising,  and 
no  cheap  graft  either,  the  speakers  being  as  high  toned 
as  their  audiences.  Scheduled  for  that  mad  October 
afternoon  was  the  first  show  of  the  season  —  and 
Miss  Stacy  had  forgotten. 

Lady  Deering,  no  end  of  a  swell,  had  but  recently 
arrived  in  Manhattan  and  was  being  trotted  round  the 
ring.  Besides  holding  all  the  blue  ribbons  for  birth 
and  education,  she  was  a  spiritualistic  crank,  and  she 
had  consented  to  talk  "  for  the  sake  of  the  cause  " — 
and  Miss  Stacy  had  forgotten! 

The  aristocrat  supported  by  her  grand  manner  and 
her  several  assistants  was  already  on  the  way,  when 
our  Lucy  S.  realized  in  an  agony  that  she  had  not  only 
overlooked  the  date  on  the  date,  but  had  entirely  for- 
gotten to  send  out  any  invitations! 

I'd  have  given  up  then.  Gone  to  the  slaughter  like 
a  chicken  —  just  lain  flop  down  and  stuck  my  feet 
in  the  air  to  be  tied.  Wouldn't  you? 

But  our  forewoman  hadn't  reached  her  position 
by  sloth,  either  mental  or  physical.  Lady  Deering's 
message  was  good  for  twenty  minutes;  and  with 
everything  at  command  one  can  do  a  lot  in  twenty 
minutes.  Stacy  spun  round  like  a  mechanical  top 
buzzing  directions.  She  got  the  tea-kitchen  open  by 
turning  the  idle  hour  of  our  restaurant  to  good  ac- 


8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

count;  started  one  gang  to  removing  dusters  in  the 
theatre,  while  another  arranged  decorations  com- 
mandeered from  the  florist  department,  and  a  third 
raided  the  millinery.  What  for?  Wait!  We  all 
knew  her  as  a  hustler  and  expected  the  lightning  to 
dissipate  itself  zig-zagging  in  every  direction;  but  the 
sheer  inspiration  of  her  first  move  had  left  us  gasp- 
ing. 

"  Envelope,  ma'm  ? "  I  was  asking  for  the  hun- 
dredth time  that  day,  when  Sally  Wing  came  running 
with  a  tip  to  report  in  the  costume  department  and 
dress  up  as  audience.  You  bet  I  didn't  make  any 
bones  about  a  customer.  That  bid  wasn't  open  to 
everybody,  and  I've  done  Sally  many  a  good  turn 
since  for  bringing  it  around  to  me.  Three  minutes 
later  I  was  down  there  among  the  girls  having  the 
time  of  my  life. 

The  long,  wide,  quiet  aisles,  covered  with  dove-gray 
carpet,  hedged  by  storerooms  on  one  side  and  dress- 
ing-rooms on  the  other,  which  is  the  lay-out  of  our 
costume  department,  teemed  with  excited  females  of 
all  ages  —  and  in  all  stages.  Talk  about  a  dress  re- 
hearsal! The  undressing  took  but  a  jiffy,  and  then 
there  seemed  to  be  hundreds  of  us  all  grabbing  things, 
and  laughing  and  squealing  for  joy  as  we  buttoned 
each  other  up;  while  the  dummies  stood  by  in  digni- 
fied rebuke  like  so  many  perfect  ladies.  Such  a  lark 
hadn't  ever  happened  before  to  brighten  our  humdrum 
lot  behind  the  counters,  and  it  never  would  again  — 
not  during  Stacy's  term  of  office  —  so  it  was  up  to  us 
to  make  the  most  of  it.  The  dressing  bee  was  fine; 
but  think  of  sitting  for  a  restful  hour  in  the  hallowed 
circle  of  those  orchestra  seats,  where  only  very  big 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  9 

toffs  were  invited,  and  having  one  of  the  highest  high- 
brows and  tallest  toffs  abandoned  to  our  absorbed  gaze 
for  all  that  time.  Why,  we'd  be  able  to  reckon  the 
buttons  on  her  shoes,  let  alone  her  diamonds!  We 
didn't  count  much  on  her  entertainment  as  such,  but 
the  whole  thing  was  a  rare  treat  without  that,  and 
rare  things  are  apt  to  be  fizzy.  Men  need  wines  to 
light  them  up,  but  girls  can  be  the  bubbly  stuff  itself 
when  they  get  going.  That  costume  department 
effervesced  like  newly  opened  champagne  for  fifteen 
delirious  minutes. 

I  gave  the  mob  the  once  over,  decided  gigglers 
wouldn't  get  to  the  party  at  all,  besides  delaying 
others,  and  then  went  straight  to  a  saleswoman  and 
put  myself  in  her  hands  as  if  I. were  a  customer.  Her 
practised  eye  took  in  my  points,  and  she  knew  the 
stock;  a  jiffy  later  she  had  sorted  me  out  the  correct 
size  in  a  dark  green  broadcloth.  Say,  it  was  a  peach ! 
I'd  never  expected  to  have  even  the  copy  of  such  a 
model  on  my  humble  back.  She  shooed  off  some 
of  the  herd  and  gave  me  my  pick  of  a  bunch  of  hats 
that  had  just  been  brought  up;  and  when  she  threw 
me  a  marabou  muff  and  scarf  to  complete  the  toilet, 
I  dove  into  a  dressing  room  and  gloated.  I'm  not 
so  very  tall,  but  when  one's  body  is  in  perfect  pro- 
portion to  one's  legs,  a  little  slimness  goes  a  long  way. 
And  I  always  did  carry  my  chin  high !  Little  Clarissa 
had  never  been  dressed  right  before  —  not  to  say  real 
swell  —  and  I  hardly  recognized  the  perfectly  lovely 
doll  turning  slowly  before  that  mirror.  But  I  was 
keen  enough  to  catch  at  the  first  glance  her  having 
them  both  good  and  plenty  —  style  and  the  other. 

I  floated  toward  the  edge  of  the  department,  and 


io  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

began  to  feel  as  if  I  was  IT;  and  just  then  Miss 
Stacy  came  bustling  back  to  round  up  her  audience. 
She  looked  at  me,  hesitated  and  turned  away.  That 
was  my  cue.  The  imitation  lady  sailed  up.  I  meant 
it  as  a  joke,  and  thought  if  I  asked  to  be  directed  to 
the  lingerie,  it  would  put  her  wise ;  but  she  didn't  spot 
me,  and  you  bet  I  was  game  to  carry  the  play-acting 
through.  I  knew  the  way  to  my  own  department  as 
well  as  the  way  to  Buniva's,  and  it  sure  was  the  limit 
to  hear  her  explaining  it  all  as  polite  as  pie;  but  of 
course  I  couldn't  smile  much  —  just  that  gracious  con- 
descension swells  bestow  on  shop  people.  She  bit  till 
you  could  listen  to  her  teeth  click,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  directions  offered  me  a  card,  saying: 

"  Lady  Deering,  the  renowned  spiritualist,  is  lectur- 
ing here  this  afternoon,  and  I  understand  she  will  give 
some  examples  of  their  —  their  processes.  It  will  be 
most  interesting  —  would  you  care  to  have  a  ticket?  " 

Stacy  to  the  dot !  Smart  as  a  steel  trap,  and  never 
missing  a  chance;  and  consider  where  it  put  me,  will 
you?  Hall-marked  me  right  into  the  top  rank. 

I  took  the  pasteboard,  asking  for  the  time  and  place 
as  if  for  news ;  and  along  with  the  ticket  came  a  bright 
idea.  By  going  down  in  one  elevator,  and  slipping 
across  and  up  in  another  on  the  far  side,  I  lost  our 
gang.  Instead  of  sitting  in  rows  with  the  shop  girls, 
I  was  free  to  choose  a  seat,  and  for  one  intoxicating 
hour  pass  myself  off  as  a  social  item.  So  much  I 
planned. 

The  up-elevator  was  crowded,  and  a  young  fellow, 
squeezed  into  a  corner,  kept  on  asking  anxiously  for 
the  theatre.  I  couldn't  hold  my  curiosity  back  from 
peeping,  because  I  knew  he  must  have  been  invited  by 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  u 

the  old  dame  herself,  and  she,  being  such  a  big  bug, 
all  her  friends  —  even  the  sort  that  sacrificed  a  fine 
day  running  to  hear  her  lecture  —  must  be  real  people. 
The  man  was  taking  a  look  too,  at  the  identical 
moment ;  our  eyes  met  and  he  blushed  —  that  got 
me.  Blushing  is  scarce  in  the  lower  walks  of  life  — 
folks  who  have  to  rustle  for  a  living  have  too  much 
brass  or  too  little  blood.  I  guess  I  treated  the  kid  to 
a  smile,  because,  when  he  had  allowed  me  to  pass  out, 
he  walked  along  close  behind,  and  after  I  had  chosen 
a  place  in  the  theatre,  he  came  and  sat  down  beside 
me,  making  us  look  as  if  we  were  together.  And  that 
didn't  spell  finis.  He  kept  on  peeking  every  little 
while,  till  I  began  to  get  sore  and  gave  him  a  bit  of  a 
cold  shoulder,  as  a  swell  would  do,  then  he  turned 
lobsterish  all  over  and  I  felt  real  sorry  for  him. 

The  young  man  fidgeted,  as  if  I  was  roasting 
him  on  a  grill.  He  doubled  under  his  chair  for  his 
hat  making  to  leave  —  I  watching  him  out  of  the  tail 
of  my  eye  —  and  he  cocked  one  eye  up  at  me  with  a 
supplicating  look.  The  worst  of  being  an  amateur  is 
overdoing  things.  I  saw  I'd  overdone  the  snub,  so  I 
threw  him  a  smile  to  make  amends,  and  I  guess  I  over- 
did that  too.  For  he  bobbed  up  like  a  cork,  and  com- 
menced fussing  with  his  overcoat.  I  was  feeling 
about  him  as  if  he  was  a  nursery  pet  belonging  to 
somebody  else,  when  he  staggered  me  by  pulling  some 
papers  out  of  the  pocket  and  handing  one  over  to  me, 
asking  if  I'd  been  at  Lady  Deering's  last  lecture  and 
if  I'd  care  to  have  her  season's  programme?  I 
glimpsed  a  portrait  of  the  English  grandee  in  all  her 
war  paint,  and  thinking  it  would  be  awful  fun  to  have 
it  to  show  the  girls,  I  put  out  my  hand  quick. 


12  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

He  misspelled  my  action  altogether,  calling  it  en- 
thusiasm, and,  taking  an  ell  where  I  gave  an  inch, 
opened  right  up.  It  was  my  turn  to  blush  now,  but  I 
couldn't  chuck  him.  He  went  on  talking  like  a  long 
lost  relative.  My  coming  across  on  the  subject  made 
him  put  me  in  his  own  class  as  a  bug  on  hypnotism 
—  and  there  were  all  those  girls  sitting  around  taking 
me  for  the  swell's  sister,  or  his  cousin  or  his  aunt. 

In  almost  the  next  breath  he  asked  me  if  I  wouldn't 
have  some  tea,  we  could  see  so  much  better  from  the 
gallery.  It  was  quite  the  custom  to  secure  a  table 
before  the  lecture  so  you'd  be  sure  of  your  tea  at  the 
end,  and  this  was  the  nearest  I'd  ever  come  to  a  square 
invitation  from  a  gentleman.  Oh,  he  was  the  real 
article  —  the  i  was  dotted  and  the  t's  crossed  in  his 
toilet,  and  he  spoke  with  a  broad  A.  Believe  me,  I 
was  more  than  excited,  but  instead  of  studying  the 
cute  little  card,  he  handed  out  with  a  club  address 
in  one  corner,  I  took  a  good  slant  at  his  open  face 
where  pinkness  and  youth  and  zeal  and  hope  struggled 
together.  It  was  all  so  impersonal  who  could  have 
refused  a  harmless  beverage? 

We  seated  ourselves  in  loungy  chairs  from  which 
one  could  see  and  hear  magnificently.  Gee !  It  walks 
to  you  when  you  have  the  price.  I  leaned  back  and 
enjoyed  luxury  as  if  I  had  been  born  with  a  golden 
spoon  in  my  mouth;  and  the  situation  didn't  lose 
flavor  by  the  knowledge  that  Bain  &  Dingley  were 
paying  for  my  time. 

"  The  Honorable  Angelica  Deering,"  as  her  cards 
read,  put  all  the  frills  on  her  spirit  lecture  that  the 
law  allows.  When  we  were  going  a  gait  at  scientific 
research,  she'd  suddenly  shut  off  the  gas  and  roll  into 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  13 

something  popular;  then,  quite  without  warning,  she'd 
speed  up  from  the  variety  stuff  till  you  could  hear 
occult  ideas  rattle  in  our  poor  heads  like  a  handful 
of  dried  peas  thrown  into  a  dish-pan.  We  marked 
time  thankfully  when  she  called  for  a  demonstration, 
and  Henri  de  Grasse  appeared.  His  coming  sent  a 
flutter  over  the  audience  for  we  didn't  expect  men- 
folk, and  every  last  one  of  us  sat  up  to  take  stock. 
He  was  the  kind  of  looking  chap  a  girl  doesn't  ap- 
proach with  impunity,  'specially  if  she  has  any  claim 
to  beauty,  or  happens  to  be  alone  in  a  rural  district 
—  dark,  suave,  elegant,  and  about  the  shape  of  a  poor 
asparagus  stalk.  I'll  bet  there  wasn't  a  youngster  in 
the  theatre  who  didn't  fall  in  love  with  the  beau  at  first 
sight. 

De  Grasse  announced  himself  quite  ready  to  mes- 
merize any  of  us,  and  asked  for  a  volunteer.  I  was 
crazy  to  see  it  done  and  so  seemed  everybody  else, 
for  they  all  began  to  turn  their  heads  and  whisper; 
but  we  waited  and  waited  on  pins  and  needles  and  not 
a  soul  moved  forward.  Not  a  blessed  one  of  our 
hundred  odd  had  the  courage! 

The  hall  was  pretty  well  filled  by  that  time.  Seeing 
something  going  on,  naturally,  the  shoppers  drifted 
in;  but  ladies  of  leisure  apparently  haven't  any  more 
courage  than  poor  eight-hour  slaves,  and  by  and  by  I 
realized,  if  we  were  to  have  the  show,  I'd  be  obliged 
to  report  myself. 

Rising  slowly  I  waited  for  my  new-young-man 
friend  to  let  me  pass.  He  put  out  his  hands  as  though 
to  prevent  me  leaving.  I  thought  I  heard  him  say 
something  about  it  being  perfectly  safe.  Then,  sud- 
denly, in  the  intense  stillness  of  the  room  he  twigged 


14  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

my  idea.  A  sort  of  a  too-good-to-be-true  look  shot 
the  anxiety  in  his  glance.  I  found  out  later  he  was 
rabid  on  spirits,  feared  them,  you  know,  and  went  in 
for  seances  and  cold  shivers  regularly;  but  at  the 
moment  I  just  caught  the  shift  of  his  expression  as 
I  was  moving  down  the  stairs.  A  tale  from  Granny's 
old  volume  of  "  Hans  Christian  Andersen "  flashed 
before  me,  and  I  clung  to  the  living  memory  of  a  "  dog 
with  eyes  as  big  as  saucers  "  while  toddling  up  the 
aisle.  Strange  how  crazy  things  like  that  pop  into 
your  mind  uninvited,  and  how  much  they  help.  If 
I'd  been  thinking  hard  about  what  I  was  doing,  I  don't 
believe  I'd  have  had  the  nerve  to  carry  on. 

Their  entire  outfit  must  have  been  afraid  I'd  get 
cold  feet,  because  they  all  hustled  to  make  a  fuss  over 
me.  Lady  Deering  herself  shook  hands,  and  de 
Grasse  danced  around  like  a  hen  on  a  hot  griddle. 
I  knew  from  the  minute  he  helped  me  on  to  the  plat- 
form that  he  was  awful  keen.  He  was  the  strangest 
man  I  ever  met.  Just  having  my  hands  touched 
casually  by  his  sent  a  shock  and  a  thrill  all  over  me. 
I  felt  a  girl  oughtn't  to  like  him,  and  yet  I  did  —  he 
made  me  like  him.  During  the  few  seconds  we  talked 
he  reeled  off  a  whole  lot  of  silly  stuff  about  spiritual 
affinity,  that  I'm  too  modest  to  repeat  —  anyway  there 
was  no  sense  to  it  —  but  I  saw  I  had  made  a  regular 
hit ;  and  I  was  mad  clear  through  to  think  that  in  less 
than  five  minutes  the  man  would  have  me  doing  what- 
ever he  wanted. 

One  of  those  old-fashioned  writer  fellows  claimed 
women  like  being  seen  far  better  than  seeing;  but  I 
guess  the  last  is  best  for  a  show  of  this  kind.  Beyond 
being  introduced  to  Lady  Deering  and  the  rest  there 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  15 

didn't  promise  to  be  any  fun  in  it  for  me.  I  was  set 
in  a  chair,  and  things  got  duller  and  duller  till  I  went 
under  —  exactly  like  taking  gas  in  a  dentist's  shop. 
From  the  instant  de  Grasse  faded  out  I  knew  nothing, 
but  Griggs  told  me  about  it.  Griggs  is  the  name  of 
the  young  gentleman  with  whom  I'd  been  drinking 
tea. 

I  proved  a  wonderfully  easy  subject,  so  de  Grasse 
had  me  in  his  hands  from  the  start;  and  he  made  me 
do  some  terrible  fool  acts  too.  Most  of  the  show  was 
over.  I  was  sicking  a  dog  at  a  rat  hole,  calling,  "  Get 
him,  Nibs,"  slapping  my  knee,  and  behaving  in  general 
as  if  I  were  a  ten-year-old  cub  in  pants  and  a  short 
jacket,  and  the  girls  were  rocking  in  their  chairs  with 
laughter,  while  de  Grasse  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
platform,  his  arms  folded,  making  me  do  it.  When 
—  Crack!  Like  the  crack  of  doom,  came  a  hideous, 
shattering  sound,  followed  by  silence.  De  Grasse  and 
I  both  crumpled  up,  and  Lady  Deering  ran  whimper- 
ing off  the  platform. 

A  piercing  scream  startled  the  silence  and  pan- 
demonium broke  loose.  The  whole  gang  had  been 
feeling  creepy  over  my  exhibition  and  other  stunts, 
and  murder  on  top  of  it  slipped  the  hounds'  leash. 
The  girls  from  the  shop  behaved  as  if  they  had  lost 
their  reason.  They  yelled  and  fought  to  make  way. 
Some  yelped  like  beaten  pups,  some  fainted,  others 
tore  their  hair.  Miss  Stacy  might  as  well  have 
talked  to  the  four  winds.  Customers  loitering  in  the 
doors,  which  had  unhappily  been  left  open,  ran  into 
the  store  with  a  dozen  mad  contradictory  reports, 
electrifying  women  who  were  quietly  pursuing  their 
own  interests  at  the  counters,  and  sending  them  wildly 


16  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

to  the  scene  of  horror,  crying  fatuously  could  they 
help,  and  what  was  it  all  about?  Every  little  bit 
makes  a  little  bit  more  in  Bedlam.  Between  those 
pushing  to  have  a  look  in,  and  the  scared  crowd  striv- 
ing to  leave,  the  center  hall  came  dangerously  near  to 
being  a  field  of  bloody  battle. 

Griggs  sprang  over  the  gallery  railing  and  was  by 
my  side  in  a  jiffy.  He  didn't  know  at  first,  he  said, 
whether  the  shot  had  been  aimed  at  me  or  de  Grasse. 
He  lifted  me  looking  for  a  mortal  wound,  and  I  opened 
my  eyes.  That  made  him  feel  different.  One  of  the 
stage  hands  helped  him  get  me  into  a  chair,  and  there 
I  sat,  still  and  white,  but  gazing  calmly  at  all  those 
raving  lunatics.  He  took  my  composure  for  the  out- 
ward sign  of  breeding,  real  people  don't  act  in 
emergencies  like  a  pack  of  cats  and  dogs,  and  he 
thought  me  a  pretty  plucky  girl.  But  it  wasn't  self- 
control,  and  I  don't  deserve  any  praise.  When  one 
hasn't  been  frightened,  one  stays  quiet;  and  I  was  far 
too  much  occupied  to  be  afraid.  I  was  consciously 
enjoying  the  queerest  sensations.  Some  great  splen- 
did power  seemed  to  be  pouring  all  through  me.  It 
pricked  and  tingled.  I  was  thrilled  as  I  had  been 
when  de  Grasse  took  my  hand,  only  a  thousand  times 
more  so.  My  brain  glowed  inside  like  an  incandes- 
cent lamp;  my  pulses  beat  double  measure  without  ef- 
fort; my  spirits  swam  to  the  lift  of  the  proscenium 
arch,  maybe  higher.  I  might  have  aspired  through 
a  skylight  even !  I  felt  I  could  skip  upon  a  thousand 
hills.  Colts  in  pasture  and  boys  out  of  school  are  as 
hobbled  donkeys  compared  to  the  terrific  exhilaration 
of  my  humanity. 

I  knew  that  Clarissa  Kendall  had  just  begun  to  live. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  17 

Bah!  what  most  of  us  call  life  is  merely  a  hanging 
on!  My  whole  being  was  filled  with  lightness  and 
energy.  The  medium  had  been  killed  —  and  I  was 
twice  alive.  I  knew  swiftly  and  surely,  as  later  I 
came  to  knowledge  of  many  things,  that  in  a  mys- 
terious way  de  Grasse  had  grabbed  me.  From  this 
moment  I  would  be  in  body  a  beautiful  young  girl, 
but  in  mentality  a  combination  of  the  sexes  —  an 
ambitious  woman  and  a  clever  man.  The  stupendous 
knowledge  kept  me  silent. 

Soon,  the  burning  in  my  brain-pan  and  the  sparks 
dancing  before  my  eyes  merged  into  form.  Did  you 
ever  gaze  at  the  sun  till  your  lamps  watered  and  then 
look  away  and  see  only  floating  splotches  of  color  on 
light?  That  was  it.  The  mass  molted  and  floated 
and  came  out  positive  again.  At  one  minute  there 
seemed  to  be  a  cat's  face  watching  me,  at  the  next  a 
serpent  emerged  with  two  wings  spread.  It  turned 
from  purple  to  green  or  red  and  back  again,  till  I 
lost  the  shape  of  the  vision  in  its  confusion  of  color; 
and  suddenly  it  flashed  black  on  white  and  died  clean 
away.  For  an  instant  I  saw  the  snake  with  its  twirly 
tail,  as  plain  as  a  printed  page,  then  it  was  gone  and 
my  eyes  relieved  from  strain  set  my  other  senses  free 
to  deafen  me  with  knowledge  of  the  hub-bub  all 
around. 

"  Let's  get  out  of  here,"  Griggs  kept  on  saying  over 
and  over,  but  he  didn't  manage  to  get  anywhere  on 
account  of  those  noisy,  stampeding  girls. 

"Are  you  all  right?"  he  asked  for  the  twentieth 
time.  Others  came  from  the  management  and  asked 
too,  and  believing  him  to  be  my  escort  left  me  to  his 
care. 


i8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  was  all  right,  more  than  fit,  feeling  magnificent 

—  full  of  a  man's  courage  veiled  in  femininity  and 
quickened  to  deceit.     I  was  certainly  on  the  job,  and 
I  learned  in  a  trice  that  somebody  else  was  on  the  job 
also;  for  my  first  action  flabbergasted  Clarissa.     She 
would  never  have  been  able  to  plan  so  far  ahead,  and 
a  mere  shop  girl  would  never  have  dared  to  take  the 
glass  of  water  they  brought  her  and  pour  it  right  down 
the  front  of  Bain  &  Dingley's  gorgeous  suit.     When 
I  saw  myself  do  so,  and  scanned  the  ruin  of  those 
borrowed  plumes,  I  thought  I  must  be  going  dippy, 
and  Griggs  thought  about  the  same.     I  just  sat  and 
looked  up  helpless  from  the  cold  thin  trickle  to  his 
amazed  stare;  and  down  again,  and  away  and  around 

—  all  so  sweet  and  utterly  futile  and  dependent,  it  ap- 
pealed to  his  manhood  good  and  sharp.     Anyway,  he 
took  the  lead  like  a  battering  ram  and  got  us  out  of 
there. 

Seeing  the  John  Bull  rampant  fairly  tickled  me, 
though  I've  learned  since  by  visiting  the  right  little, 
tight  little  island  that  every  Englishman  knows  how 
to  bully.  Griggs  hectored  the  crowd  and  got  his  own 
way  all  along  the  line,  while  I  hung  on  to  him  —  me ! 
that's  so  shy  about  getting  close  to  the  male  sex. 
However,  any  fool  could  see  this  boy-doll  was  per- 
fectly safe,  and  it  rounded  out  the  business  of  my 
part.  The  heavier  I  hung  the  pinker  and  fiercer  he 
grew,  and  in  spite  of  a  buzzing  head  —  for  there  was 
some  excitement,  believe  me  —  my  muff  came  in  handy 
as  a  laughter  valve,  the  hysterical  woman  in  Miss 
C.  K.  being  unable  to  squelch  completely  Henri  de 
Grasse's  man-relish  of  our  comical  situation.  After 
once  catching  the  hang  of  the  thing  I  wasn't  behind 


19 

him  in  appreciation,  for  it  sure  is  fun  to  be  the 
audience  and  the  show  too.  I  was  constantly  spouting 
neat  little  sentences,  most  unexpected  to  me,  and  then 
patting  myself  on  the  back  over  saying  them  so  well. 

For  instance,  as  we  neared  the  Broadway  entrance, 
I  heard  my  own  distressed  voice  murmur: 

"  Perkins  won't  be  here  yet  —  whatever  shall  I 
do?"  Say  it  came  out  natural!  An  eavesdropper 
would  have  thought  I  had  dozens  of  servants.  I  ought 
to  have  been  scared  to  introduce  a  character  bang  off, 
just  like  that,  without  the  ghost  of  a  chance  of  having 
him  cast;  but  Perkins  got  over.  Howard  Griggs 
eagerly  brushed  him  aside. 

"  My  man  is  here  —  under  these  unusual  circum- 
stances—  will  you  not  permit  me  —  entirely  at  your 
service  — "  and  more  of  the  same.  He  certainly  knew 
how  to  do  the  courtesy  act.  "  You're  —  ah,  not  fit  to 
be  alone,"  served  as  a  clincher. 

I  was  not,  if  he  said  so;  moreover,  I  hadn't  the 
slightest  intention  of  being  alone.  I  might  have 
counted  the  automobile  rides  I'd  had  to  date  on  the 
fingers  of  one  hand,  and  my  slave's  soul  trembled 
toward  freedom.  The  temptation  of  driving  up  Fifth 
Avenue  at  fashion's  hour  and  in  fashion's  choice 
regalia  put  the  blinkers  on  fear.  That  rumpus  we  had 
left  upstairs  would  surely  cover  a  short  absence,  and 
if  my  lark  did  lead  to  trouble,  it  was  at  least  the  kind 
of  trouble  with  the  decency  to  come  afterward.  I 
didn't  need  cle  Grasse  putting  it  up  to  me  that  the  game 
was  worth  a  whole  pound  of  candles. 

Foredoomed  to  push  my  luck  that  day,  I  soon  began 
to  realize  with  joy  the  acceleration  of  one  man-power 
behind  my  feeble  pushing. 


20  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

It  was  I  who  sank  into  the  deep  cushions  of  Griggs's 
hospitality;  but  it  was  undoubtedly  Henri  directing, 
"  Ritz  Carlton,"  and  Henri  who  parted  from  the 
stranger  at  one  door  of  the  hotel  and  then  stepped 
double-quick  to  a  side  entrance  and  took  a  taxi  back 
to  Bain  &  Dingley's.  I'm  not  a  fool.  I  wasn't  quite 
a  two-spot  originally,  but  I  wish  to  give  de  Grasse 
all  the  credit  coming  to  him.  I  don't  want  him  ever 
to  be  a  bit  peeved  on  me  —  heaven  only  knows  what 
he  might  contrive  to  do  even  now! 

I'm  ashamed  to  say  Clarissa  deserted  that  taxi  in 
front  of  the  emporium  —  at  times  honesty  is  no  policy. 
I  beat  it  for  the  costume  department,  and  by  shedding 
my  hat  and  slipping  off  the  green  coat,  it  was  possible 
to  steal  in  among  the  girls,  unrecognized.  Hazards, 
as  laid  in  our  gang,  being  a  hollow  form  of  words, 
were  flying  thick;  the  burning  question  whether  the 
mesmeree  had  shot  de  Grasse.  Public  opinion  was 
dead  against  her,  and  you  bet  I  kept  mum.  I  hung 
the  damaged  suit  where  I'd  be  sure  of  finding  it  again, 
and  then  went  quietly  back  to  my  own  counter.  I 
was  shaking  in  my  shoes  on  account  of  the  waiting 
chauffeur,  for  I  didn't  know  Henri  as  well  as  I  do 
now,  but  he  took  his  diploma  on  the  very  first  event. 
Closing  time  proved  him  right  in  guessing  that  a  taxi 
driver  would  never  spot  his  whilom  elegant  fare 
among  the  hundreds  of  girls  leaving  Bain  &  Dingley's 
by  an  employees'  exit. 


CHAPTER  II 

Up  to  that  day  I  had  always  thought  that  I  thought. 
There  were  evenings  when  I'd  sit  with  my  chin  in  my 
hand  and  if  Madame,  good  soul,  asked  what  was 
wrong,  I'd  say,  "  I'm  thinking."  But,  gee!  I'd  never 
done  any  thinking  in  my  whole  life. 

For  real  consecutive  thinking  one  has  got  to  have 
brains  and  training.  De  Grasse  had  them  both.  He 
taught  me  a  whole  lot,  and  I  showed  him  one  or  two 
trifles.  I  made  him  own  that  women  are  marvels  at 
duplicity.  "  Beauty  and  brains,"  he'd  say.  "  Beauty 
and  brains  —  both  kinds  —  we'll  beat  the  world !  " 

After  I  got  to  know  Henri  I  began  to  like  him  pretty 
well.  His  chief  fault  was  that  he  wanted  to  get  rich 
too  quick.  Of  course  he  lied  —  who  doesn't?  And 
he  was  a  bit  shaky  on  honor;  but  if  you're  not  in  with 
an  honorable  crowd  —  what's  the  use  ?  I  wouldn't 
do  a  mean  trick  on  Terry's  people  for  a  million 
straight  —  Henri's  bunch  were  different. 

When  we'd  arrived  at  better  acquaintance,  we  didn't 
have  to  talk  about  beauty  and  brains  and  such  things 
—  we  just  lived  it.  And  we  could  act  along  like  one 
person  without  a  hitch.  But  at  first  we  had  regular 
debates.  I  learned  life  wasn't  worth  a  hill  o'  beans 
unless  one  meet  up  with  Success.  And  success  in  the 
race  of  life,  as  in  horse  racing,  depends  largely  on  the 
getaway.  Unless  you  draw  an  inside  place  at  the  post, 
you'll  have  a  devil  of  a  run. 

21 


22  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Clothes,  he  said,  were  the  hall-mark  of  Success, 
and  there  wasn't  any  use  entering  at  all  if  one  didn't 
wear  the  right  colors.  Then  I  knew  why  I  had  poured 
that  glass  of  water  over  a  perfectly  good  suit.  The  ac- 
cident brought  its  value  within  the  faint  outermost 
ring  of  my  financial  orbit.  Next  day,  I  went  straight 
to  Miss  Stacy  and  told  her  about  the  skirt  being  spoiled 
in  the  panic,  laying  it  on  thick  when  it  came  to  ruin, 
and  offered  her  so  much  a  week  out  of  my  wages. 
Looked  like  I  was  awful  honest.  The  forewoman 
acted  pretty  nice  over  it,  and  named  a  low  figure.  I 
guess  with  the  police  in  charge,  and  Mr.  Bain  and  Mr. 
Dingley  worried  to  death  to  hush  up  a  scandal,  and 
scores  of  reporters  being  continually  shooed  off  the 
premises  and  butting  in  again,  turning  up  in  the  guise 
of  customers  and  salesmen,  hanging  around  the  count- 
ers buying  nothings,  with  their  eyes  peeled  all  the  time, 
and  their  tongues  fairly  hanging  out  to  lick  up  news, 
Stacy  wasn't  anxious  to  hear  us  elaborate  on  her  fak- 
ing an  audience.  So  I  gained  easy  leave  to  take  the 
ruin  home,  and  after  operating  it  on  the  old  ironing- 
board  for  the  longest  Sunday  morning  on  record,  its 
peachy  surface  came  as  good  as  new. 

Another  matter  de  Grasse  opened  his  eyes  about  was 
reading.  Of  course  I  had  always  glanced  through  the 
paper,  if  it  was  handy,  and  kept  up  with  the  divorce 
news,  and  the  society  weddings  —  lots  of  the  brides 
bought  their  things  from  me.  Now  I  took  a  sheet 
regular,  eleven  cents  a  week,  mind  you, —  but  it's  noth- 
ing venture,  nothing  win  —  and  I  read  it  from  cover 
to  cover  with  my  lamps  lit  searching  opportunity.  If 
it  wasn't  for  bluff,  opportunity  would  be  the  whole 
thing  in  Success  —  anyway  it's  mighty  important. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  23 

Henri  conducted  my  education  by  making  me  read 
aloud  the  opportunities  offering.  At  first  I  was  taken 
in  by  words  —  it  said  chances  to  buy  houses  cheap, 
so  cheap  and  so  desirable  tears  fairly  sprung  to  your 
eyes  to  think  of  the  loving  owners  having  to  part 
with  them  at  all;  and  chances  to  buy  businesses;  and 
chances  to  invest  money  —  but  I  soon  saw  that  wasn't 
to  the  point,  me  not  having  any  money  to  invest ;  be- 
sides, I  knew  Henri  was  laughing  up  my  sleeve. 
Finally  the  worm  turned.  I  threw  the  paper  down, 
telling  him  to  go  seek  his  old  opportunity  for  himself, 
and  that  blooming  sheet  flopped  open  right  on  the 
society  columns  where  they  talk  about  all  sorts  of 
smart  happenings  —  notices  that  don't  figure  to  be 
advertisements  on  the  top  line,  but  are  so  just  the 
same.  The  first  one  my  eye  lighted  on  was  a  Charity 
Bridge  to  be  given  at  the  Ritz  in  a  week.  There  fol- 
lowed a  long  list  of  names  and  prizes  donated  by 
swells:  a  Chow  dog  by  Mrs.  van  Buister  Clapp,  a 
pianola  from  Winchley  le  Peyesent,  an  automobile  by 
somebody  else,  an  opera  box,  a  vacuum-cleaner  and  a 
whole  lot  more  things.  It  sure  did  look  like  a  party, 
if  one  could  have  been  in  the  winning  class. 

Henri  vaunted  himself  over  finding  that  item,  and 
claimed  it  was  the  only  real  opportunity  in  New  York. 

"  But  I  don't  play  bridge,"  I  objected.  "  I  don't 
know  how.  And  anyway,  I  never  won  a  prize  in  my 
life." 

All  the  same  Clarissa  was  forced  to  cut  the  silly 
piece  out  and  pin  it  up  on  her  dresser;  and  the  next 
thing  I  knew  I  was  borrowing  the  "  A.  B.  C.  of 
Bridge  "  from  our  first-floor  front. 

"  If  I  deal  the  cards,"  Henri  argued,  "  you  won't 


24  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

need  to  do  much  playing.  And  besides,  you  want 
to  go.  You've  bartered  your  liberty  for  a  fine  new 
suit  —  now  what  is  the  use  of  a  becoming  costume  and 
no  place  to  wear  it?  " 

De  Grasse  had  always  been  foxy  with  the  women; 
it's  no  wonder  he  egged  me  on  till  I  filled  up  with  the 
spirit  of  the  gamble  and  grew  keener  than  a  March 
wind. 

Once  started  I  was  just  as  good  as  Henri  in  the 
money  spending  line.  On  Saturday  afternoon  I 
travelled  up  to  the  Vacation  Savings'  office  and  drew 
out  all  my  capital.  They  tried  hard  to  make  girlie 
leave  some  — "  Just  a  nest  egg."  But  my  second 
wouldn't  stand  for  half  measures.  He  said  he  was 
going  to  put  our  money  where  it  would  draw  interest 
or  bust;  and  not  to  be  a  little  Sally-sucker,  and  a 
diffident  dub.  I  always  had  thought  it  right  cute  of 
them  to  handle  working  girls'  accumulated  ready  and 
not  .pay  over  any  of  the  unearned  increment.  How- 
ever, I'm  grateful  to  them  for  making  me  save,  be- 
cause it  ended  in  a  perfectly  splendid  three  hours  buy- 
ing a  hat,  and  gloves,  and  shoes,  and  a  fixing  for  my 
neck.  I  wanted  to  corral  the  ticket  also,  but  Henri 
postponed  that  purchase  till  the  last  minute,  explain- 
ing if  I  walked  in  and  presented  a  pass,  they'd  wonder 
why  I  was  not  with  my  own  party ;  and  it  was  always 
best  in  such  cases  to  attract  as  little  attention  as  pos- 
sible. 

On  Tuesday  I'd  have  gone  to  the  shop  like  an 
honest  simp,  and  asked  for  the  afternoon  off  —  and 
perhaps  not  got  it.  Henri  pointed  out  the  safe  way 
was  to  lie  in  bed  and  makes  excuses  later,  so  I  loafed, 
but  I  didn't  sleep  after  six ;  didn't  want  to  for  that 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  25 

matter  —  lying  awake  and  thinking  about  not  having 
to  get  up  was  such  a  treat!  My  old  alarmy  showed 
three  hours  past  before  Buniva  came  up  hunting 
trouble.  Board  is  board  seven  days  in  the  week  and 
Herself  never  countenanced  any  trifling  with  the  al- 
mighty dollar.  If  every  last  one  of  her  family  didn't 
materialize  for  breakfast,  business  instincts  drove  her 
aloft.  She  was  a  jolly,  helpful  soul  aside  from  tariff, 
and  hearing  of  the  party  she  promised  to  give  me 
lunch  and  let  it  stand  on  the  bill  instead  of  breakfast 
—  a  clear  saving  to  me  of  fifteen  cents. 

Time,  they  say,  was  made  for  slaves,  but  the  less 
folks  accomplish  the  faster  it  goes.  My  idle  hours 
simply  whirred.  I  could  hear  them  pass.  I  didn't 
do  a  thing  but  manicure  myself  from  top  to  toe,  so 
as  to  be  worthy  of  the  new  duds ;  and  fuss  up  the  little 
trimmings  on  my  waist;  and  try  my  hair  in  a  dozen 
ways  till  I  struck  the  sympathetic  note  for  hat  and  face. 
My  hair  certainly  is  grand  —  the  color  of  a  squirrel's 
back  in  the  sun,  as  one  of  Terry's  poetic  friends  told 
me.  I  punctured  his  metaphor  at  the  time  by  asking 
if  he  meant  a  gray  squirrel,  and  he  ran  on  flat  tires 
all  the  rest  of  the  evening;  but  it  wasn't  a  bad  descrip- 
tion. Every  hair  is  long,  mere  man  won't  be  able  to 
fathom  the  value  of  that  remark;  it  lies  smooth,  you 
know,  and  holds  a  marcel  for  a  week;  and  I  haven't 
too  much,  which  is  almost  as  awkward  as  none,  but 
just  the  right  amount  to  make  sure  of  following  any 
mode. 

Henri  held  appearances  didn't  matter  in  this  outing 
as  they  would  all  be  women.  Then  I  knew  I'd  be 
obliged  to  order  a  primer  or  graft  femininity  on  to  the 
roots  of  his  ignorance  like  a  tea  rose.  The  why-for 


26  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

of  gorgeous  apparel  is  the  mental  effect  on  oneself. 
That  brand  of  courage  needed  to  face  patronesses 
and  head  waiters  rises  higher  as  the  rising  tide  of 
dollars  surges  over  one's  person.  Flowing  lines  make 
for  egotism  and  a  train  is  a  great  moral  support. 
Take  it  from  your  Uncle  Dudley,  the  hats  of  history 
have  carried  through  more  mischief  than  the  heads 
beneath  them.  I  knew  this  affair  would  be  every 
woman  for  herself,  and  the  devil  take  the  dowdiest, 
so  I  spread  myself  on  a  toilet,  and  when  a  hotel  mirror 
had  assured  me  that  my  skirt  hung  even  and  my  stock- 
ings hadn't  ripped  at  the  heel,  I  felt  as  if  the  Queen 
of  Sheba  were  my  orphant  niece,  and  I  issued  out  and 
ordered  a  taxi  in  my  most  regal  manner.  We  put  up 
the  price  to  drive  from  the  Manhattan,  because  de 
Grasse  maintains  arriving  on  foot  is  bound  to  take  the 
starch  out  of  any  enterprise.  On  wheels  you  may  be 
anybody,  but  pedestrianism  sure  is  low  down  or  hard 
up. 

The  boy  jumped  so  quick  to  the  door  I  wondered 
if  he  could  have  remembered  me  arriving  in  Griggs's 
car;  but  when  I  saw  the  crowd,  I  got  him.  There 
were  all  kinds  present,  and  some  of  them  pretty  plain 
dressers.  I  guess  they  took  their  fill  of  high  life  when 
the  price  of  getting  in  and  out  again  was  only  three 
dollars.  I  looked  a  swell.  Money  talks,  even  my 
little  savings'  book  full.  Everything  I  had  on  the 
outside  was  brand  new  a  la  the  millionaire.  I'd 
always  fancied  it  must  be  uncomfortable  and  you're 
right,  it  was.  New  stays,  high  heels  and  a  brimless 
hat  —  the  Inquisition  wasn't  in  class,  and  the  self- 
consciousness  of  it  kept  me  from  giving  my  whole 
mind  to  what  was  going  forward.  Launched  alone 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  27 

in  those  gigantic  rooms  amid  a  thousand  she  peacocks 
I  felt  like  a  chip  going  over  Niagara,  and  I  had  to  fall 
back  on  Henri.  That's  where  he  got  the  upper  hand. 
Every  time  we  maneuvered  on  new  ground  I  fell  back, 
and  soon  he  was  doing  all  the  ordering.  It  was  next 
door  to  matrimony,  only  more  fun,  because  no  one 
understood  about  my  better  half.  A  real  fine  looking 
girl  is  a  peril  and  the  boys  don't  forget  it.  Of  course 
there's  always  a  sucker  or  two  hanging  about  the 
married  dames,  happy  to  bask  in  the  grateful  cer- 
tainty they  can't  tar  them  with  father's  blessing  and 
feather  them  with  wedding  plans  at  the  first  act  of  in- 
discretion; but,  thank  God,  the  bulk  of  males  are  men, 
and  any  fellow  worth  his  salt  still  yearns  toward 
danger  —  especially  when  it's  unescorted. 

Incapable  of  counting  a  pip  that  afternoon  I  leaned 
hard  on  de  Grasse,  and  he  certainly  did  rise  to  the 
occasion;  between  my  partner  and  me  holding  all  the 
cards  once  in  four,  and  fair  hands  other  times,  we  ate 
them  up.  I  hadn't  set  my  heart  on  a  prize,  however, 
and  when  they  called  my  name  and  handed  out  the 
opera  box,  I'm  afraid  little  Clarissa  attracted  bushels 
of  attention.  It  made  Henri  mad.  Always  disap- 
proving of  publicity  he  hustled  me  into  a  taxi  and 
home,  saying  it  was  only  a  beginning  anyway  and  no 
time  to  crow. 


CHAPTER  III 

De  Grasse  and  I  had  a  fight  that  evening  because 
I  refused  to  hand  everything  over  to  him  holus-bolus. 
One  of  those  opera  invitations  was  destined  for 
Howard  Griggs.  I  wasn't  in  love  with  the  boy,  mind 
you,  in  spite  of  hanging  on  to  him  in  the  shop,  but 
I  thought  it  would  be  a  lark  to  see  him  again;  and 
having  made  up  my  mind  I  didn't  intend  to  be  domin- 
ated. Besides  —  who  else  was  there  to  ask  ? 

It's  a  sure  thing  if  any  friendly  philanthropist  had 
chucked  me  a  bunch  of  opera  tickets  before  I  got  mixed 
up  with  Henri,  I'd  have  cut  for  Buniva's,  had  a  glori- 
fication with  the  family,  and  then  rigged  little  old 
Madame  up  in  her  best  togs  and  carried  her  off  to  hear 
"  Caroose."  But  the  party  wasn't  pleasure  now.  It 
had  to  be  considered  as  a  business  opportunity.  Ambi- 
tion is  the  most  devastating  kill-joy  known! 

Instead  of  making  merry  I  went  straight  and  shut 
myself  in  my  room  to  figure  the  thing  out.  I  was 
terribly  scared  de  Grasse  would  insist  on  selling  the 
box  —  for  I  did  want  to  see  the  show  —  and  I  deter- 
mined to  render  that  scheme  impossible  without  loss 
of  time.  I'd  swiped  a  piece  of  paper  and  an  envelope 
from  the  Ritz,  so,  when  I  finished  composing  a  note, 
a  few  brief  noncommittal  lines,  I  stuck  the  ticket  in 
and  mailed  it  quick.  Henri  had  noticed  the  club  ad- 
dress and  said  in  an  offhand  way,  we  might  as 
well  keep  on  the  youngster's  track.  He  had  no  ob- 

28 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  29 

jections  to  Griggs.  But  he  thought  he  could  run  our 
campaign  best,  and  he  was  sore  at  me  for  acting  on 
my  own.  After  that  he  sunk  himself  deep  in  the 
sulks  and  refused  all  communication. 

Two  entire  days  those  swell  bits  of  card  lay  in  my 
room  untouched,  except  for  the  way  I  fingered  them 
while  I  was  trying  to  think.  I'd  sort  them  out  in  a 
row  on  the  bed  and  gloat;  and  then  rearrange  them 
and  sit  gazing  —  but  I  failed  to  hit  upon  a  classy  plan. 
Memory  kept  hopping  and  skipping  from  one  silly 
detail  to  another:  the  clothes  some  of  the  women  had 
worn,  and  how  the  old  chap  looked  when  he  gave 
me  the  prize,  and  what  they  said  at  the  shop  next 
morning.  My  mind  showed  about  as  much  concen- 
tration as  a  frayed  rope  end. 

By-and-by  I  grew  nervous  over  missing  an  oppor- 
tunity we  didn't  even  have  to  go  after,  but  which 
snuggled  all  ready  and  waiting  in  the  top  bureau 
drawer.  Time  passed,  and  it  was  a  rank  shame.  I 
gave  in  and  apologized.  I  guess  women  are  most 
sensible  about  these  affairs;  Henri  ought  to  have  done 
the  humility  act  if  he  hadn't  been  too  stiff  necked  — 
he  was  anxious  to  make  up  all  right.  He  had  been 
thinking  the  situation  out,  in  his  wounded  seclusion, 
and  was  ready  to  get  to  work  with  a  plan  cut  and  dried 
—  I  had  only  to  follow  directions. 

The  passports  were  delivered  in  a  big  thick  white 
envelope,  regular  wedding  stationery,  tied  with  ribbon. 
I  had  laid  the  last  away  to  use  in  a  chemise,  but  now 
we  dug  them  both  out,  and  sealed  and  tied  our 
treasures,  still  innocent  of  address;  and  then,  putting 
on  my  oldest  clothes  I  sallied  forth.  Rain  smirched 
the  darkness  into  inkier  black,  and  it  was  cold.  How- 


30  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ever,  my  heart  throbbed  to  adventure,  and  I  was  re- 
lieved over  making  up  with  Henri.  The  past  forty- 
eight  hours  had  been  worse  than  an  attack  of  indiges- 
tion. I  decided  never  to  quarrel  with  him  again  — 
happen  what  might.  Standing  there  waiting  for  an 
up-town  car  we  sealed  our  bargain;  and  the  very 
gutters  purling  at  my  feet  seemed  to  lilt  a  jollier  note. 

I  was  bound  for  the  club  district.  Henri  main- 
tained that  having  decent  clothes  the  next  item  on  the 
list  for  me  was  some  stylish  acquaintances.  He  felt 
sure  I  only  needed  to  meet  folks;  and  intended  intro- 
ducing me,  in  his  own  fashion,  to  the  right  people  — 
the  opera-box  kind.  Little  by  little  one  learns  the  re- 
sourcefulness of  a  confidence  man  —  that  was  a  name 
people  called  Henri  when  they  didn't  like  him  —  and 
it  was  a  splendid  name!  After  the  outcome  of  this 
event,  which  was  far  reaching  as  you'll  see,  he  had 
gained  my  entire  confidence. 

There  was  no  use  picking  out  Griggs's  club,  or  any 
of  the  smaller,  exclusive  places,  because  the  men  be- 
longing to  them  had  boxes  of  their  own;  and  the 
university  clubs"  are  apt  to  harbor  honest,  poor  chaps. 
So  we  decided  on  the  Engineers'  as  our  likeliest 
gamble ;  and  I  alighted  at  Fortieth  Street,  and  plodded 
through  the  drizzle  to  that  colossal  pile.  The  neigh- 
borhood proved  quite  deserted.  A  glance  to  right  and 
left  assured  me  of  safety  for  the  moment,  and,  quick 
as  a  dart,  I  made  the  toss  —  we  had  cast  our  bread 
upon  the  water.  I  stole  across  to  the  opposite  side 
to  watch  for  signs  of  an  immediate  return,  for  I've 
always  been  a  believer  in  proverbs.  The  envelope 
looked  so  large  and  white  glaring  up  from  the  club 
porch,  I  was  afraid  it  might  attract  too  much  curiosity, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  31 

and  that  one  of  the  attendants  would  come  out  and 
nab  it. 

Back  and  forth  I  walked,  and  up  and  down,  and 
nothing  happened.  The  night  was  sodden,  void,  com- 
panionless.  For  change  I  leaned  against  the  library 
fence,  or  shifted  from  one  foot  to  another.  Then  I'd 
begin  to  tramp  once  more.  Weariness  and  cold  crept 
over  me  like  a  snail,  and  Henri  came  in  for  some 
pretty  hot  invective,  not  at  all  in  the  spirit  of  our  late 
compact.  As  I  turned  for  the  hundredth  time,  a  taxi 
whizzed  around  the  Fifth  Avenue  corner,  and  my  heart 
nearly  stopped  —  but  it  didn't  affect  my  feet.  I  was 
down  at  the  far  end  of  the  block  when  those  lamps 
blazed  on  the  watery  road,  and  I  fairly  flew  to  the 
scene  of  action,  crept  close,  out  of  range,  and  stood 
stark,  hidden  by  the  gloom  and  my  umbrella. 

Two  men  came  from  the  club.  A  small,  jovial, 
sing-songy  fellow,  in  no  condition  for  acute  observa- 
tion, nearly  fell  over  our  bait  without  taking  it,  but 
his  friend  shoved  him  away  and  reached  for  the 
package.  He  was  a  dandy,  square  shouldered  man, 
wearing  a  light  colored,  shaggy  cloth  coat,  and  looking 
very  much  as  a  man  ought  to  look.  I  beamed  in  the 
security  of  my  cotton  shelter,  while  they  peered  this 
way  and  that,  seeking  a  possible  owner.  Nix  on  find- 
ing Clarissa.  So  I  watched  Mr.  Big-Man  open  the 
envelope,  glance  at  the  tickets,  and  pocket  the  lot. 
Then  I  beat  it  for  home.  I'll  bet  you  I  was  the  most 
excited  and  expectant  girl  in  Greater  New  York  that 
hour;  and  I  must  confess,  just  a  pin-prick  sorry  I  had 
invited  Griggs. 

The  box  was  for  Saturday  matinee  and  I  stayed 
home  from  the  shop  again,  there  not  being  time  to 


32  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

dress  after  closing.  I  wanted  to  get  to  the  place  first, 
so  as  not  to  miss  anything,  but  I  soon  found  out  my 
mistake.  You  see  with  a  bona  fide  owner  sitting  there, 
strangers  might  naturally  hesitate  to  camp;  however 
it  turned  out  all  right,  and  I'm  glad  I  went  early,  be- 
cause the  best  of  the  show  was  watching  the  audience 
come  in.  Being  absolutely  ignorant  of  Grand  Opera 
until  the  curtain  rises  is  a  blighting  handicap  —  it's 
one  of  those  subjects  you've  got  to  study  up  first  and 
last.  Since  then  I've  read  a  lot  of  high-brow  articles 
on  "opera  for  the  Northwest,"  and  "opera  for  the 
poor,"  and  why  in  thunder  the  average  citizen  doesn't 
run  to  hear  opera  when  he's  offered  a  rare  chance 
six  dollars  per.  Say!  It's  easy.  One  can't  get 
chummy  with  ideas  like  these  by  spending  three  or 
four  hours  in  their  company  once  a  year.  In  order  to 
enjoy  opera  you've  got  to  pal  along  together  regular. 
I'm  broken  to  it  now ;  but  on  the  level,  that  first  show 
struck  me  as  away  below  invoice. 

I  was  sitting  there  in  the  dark,  feeling  small  and 
lonesome  and  about  disappointed  enough  to  cry;  and 
no  longer  marvelling  at  the  generosity  that  could  hand 
out  its  box  as  a  prize,  because  I  fancied  that  afternoon 
was  a  frost,  so  many  seats  had  been  empty  when  the 
acting  began.  Suddenly  an  arrow  of  light  shot 
through  the  back  door,  and  I  heard  whispering  — 
somebody  was  coming  in.  I  tried  to  hide  behind  the 
curtains,  and  held  my  breath  so  as  not  to  scare  them ; 
but  it  was  unnecessary.  The  two  engineers  walked 
out  with  their  eyes  glued  on  the  stage.  A  fat  chap 
and  a  girl  were  singing  turn  about,  and  my  guests 
never  made  a  move  to  sit  down  till  the  curtain  dropped, 
and  the  applause  was  spattering  itself  dead. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  33 

I  had  myself  in  hand  by  that  time,  and  when  the 
house  lit  up  showing  me  in  possession  and  registering 
dignified  surprise,  those  poor  fellows  were  terribly 
embarrassed,  'specially  the  big  one.  His  companion, 
who  seemed  as  jovial  as  ever,  apologized  and  apolo- 
gized till  I  began  to  be  afraid  he  would  eject  himself 
in  spite  of  me.  But  the  other  cut  him  off  in  time, 
and  began  to  talk  sense.  He  said  he  had  reported  the 
tickets  at  the  box  office  and  the  club,  and  as  they  were 
not  claimed  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  he  decided 
to  make  use  of  them.  For  he  was  leaving  town,  it 
was  his  last  chance  to  hear  Caruso,  and  they  hadn't 
a  seat  in  the  house,  as  I  could  see. 

I  looked  over.  The  whole  place  sure  enough  was 
jammed,  and  rows  of  enthusiasts  standing  up  at  the 
back  —  can  you  beat  it !  Folks  gone  clean  dippy  over 
the  middle  of  a  show  and  not  caring  enough  about  the 
start  to  hustle  their  grub. 

Of  course  I  invited  the  strangers  to  stay.  I  had  to 
be  foxy  though.  The  box-office  knew  about  those 
seats  figuring  as  a  prize,  and  naturally  everybody 
thought  they  would  be  rounded  up.  It  did  seem  odd 
not  even  to  have  inquired.  I  scored  one  against 
Henri,  and  then  sailed  in  with  a  whopper,  saying  I 
had  sent  them  to  a  friend,  and  didn't  dream  they  were 
lost,  but  was  wondering  what  had  become  of  her. 
And  I  added,  kind  of  careless,  as  my  party  was  evi- 
dently broken  to  smithereens,  perhaps  they'd  like  to 
remain.  I  said  remain  too  —  de  Grasse  uses  some 
vocabulary. 

Mr.  Big-Man  jumped  at  the  chance,  and  sat  right 
down  beside  me;  and  after  he  had  introduced  the 
rubber  ball  and  himself,  he  began  explaining  about  that 


34  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

opera.  It  was  real  comfortable,  me  not  being  obliged 
to  put  on  side  as  I'd  only  won  the  box  at  cards.  Wise 
guy !  He  had  armed  himself  with  a  book  where  every 
word  of  the  play  was  written  in  two  languages;  and 
it  turned  out  the  keg  she'd  had  her  foot  on  was  full 
of  gold. 

"  That's  the  best  ever !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  When  she 
ranted  away  like  that,  I  took  her  for  a  suffragette  or  a 
temperance  fiend ! " 

We  all  laughed,  and  I  saw  his  nice  blue  eyes  twink- 
ling. People  looked  our  way  —  his  roar  sounded  so 
big  and  jolly. 

"  I'll  bet  they  haven't  as  much  gold  in  that  keg  now 
as  I  have  in  my  pocket,"  he  said.  And  I  was  trying 
to  square  him  as  a  boastful  ass,  when  he  pulled  out  a 
great  hunk  of  metal  that  made  my  eyes  pop. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  how  it  grows  ?  That's  a  nugget 
from  the  Dome  mine." 

Henri  positively  quivered  with  eagerness  to  touch 
the  glittering  thing.  (Him  pick  on  me  for  excite- 
ment!) I  sat  turning  the  blob  over  and  over,  trying 
to  back  my  second-self  into  place,  while  I  threw  out 
amazingly  ignorant  questions  about  the  why  and 
wherefore.  Ross  —  that  was  the  big  man's  name  — 
seeing  me  interested,  talked  a  lot,  and  I  suppose  one 
would  say  he  talked  well.  Almost  any  man  can  spiel 
you  glibly  on  his  own  business ;  but  a  good  listener  is  a 
gift  of  God.  Henri  and  I  sat  there  with  our  ears 
flapping,  and  I  guess  the  engineer  enjoyed  himself. 
We  learned  how  La  Rose,  a  French  Canadian,  had 
picked  up  a  lump  of  silver  from  the  surface  of  the 
rocks  away  out  in  some  forsaken  woods;  and  had 
rustled  right  in  and  staked  all  the  land  coming  to  him, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  35 

before  he  made  anybody  wise  to  his  find.  Of  course 
he  had  the  best  patch  in  the  vicinity,  being  Johnny  on 
the  spot.  A  few  big  bugs  had  jumped  in  second  and 
snatched  the  ripe  plums;  and  all  sorts  of  get-rich-quick 
quacks  had  been  trooping  up  and  drawing  surprise 
packages  out  of  the  Canadian  wilds  ever  since.  Seedy 
engineers  overran  the  ground  like  a  plague  of  locust, 
he  said,  but  quite  recently  a  new  gold  camp  had  been 
opened  to  the  north,  with  blare  of  trumpets,  and  a  lot 
of  the  driftwood  was  sweeping  on.  Ross  himself  had 
stuck  to  silver,  believing  there  were  still  plenty  of 
elegant  veins  to  run  down  in  the  Cobalt  region. 

WThen  I  heard  that  old  La  Rose  had  scratched  rock 
and  grubbed  around  for  more  than  twenty  years  be- 
fore he  saw  the  "  bloom,"  I  thought  it  knocked  a  large 
chunk  of  icing  off  the  cake.  But  Henri  continued  to 
be  in  a  ferment  over  the  whole  story.  He  would  have 
taken  French  leave  then  and  there,  so  as  not  to  miss 
a  minute  of  the  big  gamble,  only  he  wanted  to  chum 
up  with  Ross  some  more.  I  felt  he  yearned  toward 
him  like  a  brother  in  prosperity,  and  perhaps  that  made 
me  more  approachable  than  usual.  As  I've  told  you, 
I  believe  in  keeping  fellows  at  arm's  length;  but  Ross 
was  a  great  Newfoundland  dog  sort  of  man,  and  one 
doesn't  mind  petting  a  real  friendly,  nice  dog.  What 
with  this  "  good  old  fellow  "  attitude,  and  Henri's  sud- 
den leaning,  first  thing  I  knew  the  engineer  had  pulled 
his  chair  closer,  and  we  were  talking  almost  in  whis- 
pers, so  that  my  other  guest  excused  himself  and  went 
out  for  a  smoke. 

Ross  didn't  snatch  the  opportunity  to  ladle  out  any 
soft  soap  though,  he  kept  right  on  telling  me  about 
mines, —  how  they  dig  a  shaft  in  the  ground  and  lay 


36  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

out  galleries  from  that;  and  how  they  bore  a  hole  for 
the  explosive,  and  stick  it  in,  and  then  all  hike  im- 
mediate, so  as  not  to  run  any  risk  of  being  blown  up ; 
and  about  hoisting  the  broken  rock  in  buckets,  and 
having  to  put  it  through  machines  before  it  can  be  sold, 
and  what  a  lot  of  money  it  takes  to  operate  a  claim 
after  you  secure  it. 

Ross  owned  a  good  looking  lot  I  gathered,  but  not 
much  of  the  ready. 

He  said  if  you  saw  a  bit  of  likely  ground  that  you 
wanted,  and  nobody  else  held,  you  just  hammered  in 
stakes  at  certain  distances,  and  then  went  around  and 
registered  the  claim;  and  if  you  did  it  all  according 
to  Canadian  law,  not  forgetting  anything,  nobody  on 
earth  could  take  it  from  you.  But  if  you  had  a  real 
mine,  and  you  had  left  any  tiniest  mite  of  a  loophole, 
not  according  to  regulations,  woe  betide  you.  Some 
smart-aleck  would  up  and  find  a  fault  in  your  title, 
and  then  the  ground  must  be  thrown  as  wide  open 
to  everybody  as  it  was  in  the  beginning.  Only  that 
the  entire  camp  knew  by  then  what  the  ore  assayed, 
and  the  fellows  would  sit  up  nights  waiting  till  your 
hold  on  it  was  busted,  and  they'd  dash  out  and  race 
you  to  it,  and  maybe  beat  you,  and  stake  your  ground 
in  their  own  name,  and  steal  your  fortune  altogether. 
That  doesn't  seem  fair  to  me,  but  it's  the  way  they 
play  the  mining  game. 

I  was  so  thrilled  hearing  about  the  real  thing  I 
forgot  we  were  at  the  opera,  until  the  lights  dipped 
and  the  top  gallery  began  to  sish  for  silence. 

Ross  sat  back,  and  I  couldn't  get  a  word  more  out 
of  him,  only  once  he  patted  my  hand  where  it  lay  on 
the  nugget,  whispering, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  37 

"Will  you  keep  it  to  remember  me  by?" 

We  were  swimming  along.  Buckwater  —  the  other 
man  —  went  out  in  the  second  interval  to  have  another 
smoke,  and  I  was  trembling,  and  enjoying  and  wonder- 
ing about  it,  sure  Ross  would  try  and  see  me  again, 
and  determined  to  give  him  my  correct  address  — 
since  he  was  going  out  of  town,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  who  should  appear  but  Griggs,  quite  breathless 
and  very  pink!  Gee!  I  hated  him!  But  I  had  to 
get  up  and  do  the  polite,  and  perhaps  in  my  excitement 
I  rather  overdid  it.  My  Gold  Man  drew  right  into 
himself. 

Of  course  I  introduced  everybody.  The  engineers 
took  Griggs  for  a  legitimate  friend,  and  I  guess  they 
thought  I  was  rattled  because  I  didn't  want  to  be 
caught  entertaining  strangers.  Both  men  spotted  it, 
and  not  a  word  said  about  losing  tickets.  Griggs  on 
his  side  was  cold  surprised  not  to  find  a  chaperone; 
and  he  didn't  cotton  to  the  engineers  any  more  than 
they  did  to  him. 

First  thing  Howard  plucked  out  his  nifty  pocket- 
book  and  showed  me  a  clipping  about  the  de  Grasse 
murder.  Having  read  millions  of  words  on  the  sub- 
ject I  would  just  as  soon  he  had  left  this  news  item 
at  home.  But  at  least  it  was  news.  Detective 
Buttle  by  adding  two  and  two  made  thirteen.  The 
medium,  he  claimed,  was  head  of  a  big  gang  the  police 
had  been  after  for  years;  and  the  fact  of  a  woman 
shooting  him  (which  looked  likely  there  having  been 
a  hundred  women  present  to  one  man)  opened  up  a 
long  avenue  of  clues.  They  were  about  to  round  up 
every  known  female  crook,  and  make  them  show  their 
whereabouts  on  the  memorable  date. 


38  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Henri  grew  so  interested  in  this  phase  of  his  own 
murder,  I  was  forced  out  of  general  conversation, 
and  had  to  read  the  cutting  line  by  line.  He 
wouldn't  let  up  even  when  the  performance  started, 
and  I  finished  with  the  assistance  of  Griggs's  pro- 
gramme lamp.  Glancing  from  the  paper  to  the  dark- 
ened dome  above  us  I  saw  again  that  symbol  of  the 
winged  snake.  The  creature  flashed  upon  me  bright 
and  clear  and  I  marked  every  detail:  the  small  evil 
head,  those  strange  hieroglyphics  on  its  spread  wings, 
which  had  once  borne  resemblance  to  a  cat's  eyes,  and 
the  perfect  circle  backing  all.  I  could  never  mistake 
or  forget  the  form  though  I  didn't  choose  to  see  it. 
His  wiggly  tail  filled  me  with  the  creeps,  and  a  horrible 
fear  sprang  out  in  the  darkness  turning  me  icy  cold. 
De  Grasse  must  have  wished  the  D.  T.'s  on  me! 

There  aren't  but  three  acts  to  that  opera,  so  when 
the  bowing  and  the  clapping  subsided  we  had  to  leave. 
Griggs  suggested  tea,  and  there  were  no  bids  against 
him.  The  strangers,  thinking  we  belonged  while  they 
were  mere  outsiders,  beat  a  retreat. 

Griggs  spouted  a  little  about  "  Destinn  being  in 
voice,"  and  "  Puccini's  music  not  expressing  the  spirit 
of  our  west,  nor  quite  revealing  the  farther  occiden- 
talism of  Japan,"  —  he  was  a  regular  bug  on  opera 
—  and  then  we  shook  hands  all  around. 

The  yellow  car  didn't  look  half  so  big,  or  half  so 
yellow,  or  half  so  luxurious  as  it  had  before;  but  the 
youth  himself  was  nicer.  He  would  have  called  at 
the  hotel  next  day,  he  said,  if  he  had  known  my 
name.  I  ought  to  have  told  him  "  Sapphira  " —  but 
of  course  I'd  signed  Kendall  on  the  note,  and  he  knew 
now  and  could  easily  figure  that  no  unattached  female 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  39 

was  registered  under  K  at  the  Ritz.  I  cast  about  for 
plausible  whopper  number  two  (Henri  has  got  me  in 
all  wrong  with  the  recording  angel)  and  suddenly 
decided  I  had  been  out  of  town  for  a  couple  of  weeks 
and  was  going  away  again.  But  right  there  I  got 
a  tip  that  lack  of  an  address  and  a  chaperone  were 
going  to  stall  me  with  Griggs.  You  see  Howard  was 
a  dyed-in-the-wool  aristocrat;  if  he  hadn't  been  a  bit 
of  a  stranger  in  New  York  society  himself,  he  would 
have  known  who  owned  that  opera  box,  and  then  — 
good  night  Clarissa. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Well,  it  was  all  over  with  the  goose,  but  I  still 
had  the  golden  egg.  Henri  grew  hourly  more  de- 
termined on  a  visit  to  Cobalt.  Silver,  he  said,  was 
about  the  likeliest  opportunity  for  us;  and  this  new 
gold  field  to  the  north  might  prove  a  bonanza.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  my  sex,  he'd  have  floated  an  entire 
company  on  that  one  nugget  alone.  "  Get  your  stock 
on  the  market  first,"  he  preached.  "  You  can  buy  a 
hole  in  the  ground  easily  enough  when  the  directors 
ask  for  it."  De  Grasse  always  put  the  cart  before  the 
horse,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  but  I  was  learning  to 
appreciate  him,  and  to  lie  low;  and  he  began  to  figure 
out  it  wasn't  all  jam  being  a  woman.  Nobody  takes 
us  seriously,  and  aside  from  marriage  speculative 
enterprise  is  practically  closed  against  us. 

My  skirts  put  the  kibosh  on  Henri's  operating  in 
New  York;  but  I  knew  he'd  never  be  satisfied  till  he 
had  a  finger  in  the  mining  pie,  so  gradually  I  made 
our  preparations.  My  extra  duds,  not  many,  some 
cheap  jewelry,  Aunt  Elizabeth's  ear-rings  and  my 
stock  of  pictures  and  books  all  found  their  way  to 
Second  Avenue.  There  was  a  little  Vacation  Sav- 
ings' money  left ;  but  I'd  been  fined  at  the  shop,  besides 
having  to  pay  regularly  on  my  nifty  suit;  and  we 
couldn't  tote  the  fare  up  anyway.  Henri  insisted  on 
keeping  the  nugget. 

The  only  scheme  we  hit  on  was  for  me  to  work 

40 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  41 

extra  time,  and  there  we  took  Madame  Buniva  into 
counsel.  Madame  had  a  square  head  under  that  bob 
of  hair  she  sported,  and  she  had  a  right  good  heart 
too.  One  of  her  brothers  ran  a  catering  establish- 
ment, and  she  packed  me  off  to  him  with  a  glowing 
recommendation.  After  he  read  it,  I  thought  he  was 
going  to  embrace  me,  but  it  was  just  the  man's  Italian 
way.  He  trotted  off  to  call  his  Sefiora,  and  the  two 
of  them  began  talking  with  their  hands  and  gurgling. 
I  couldn't  make  head  nor  tale  of  it  till  Mrs.  Sturani 
produced  a  frilly  cap  and  apron  and  dressed  me  up. 
The  black  and  white  trimmings  made  me  look  out 
of  sight.  Then  the  boss  spoke  English  long  enough 
to  promise  me  a  job  taking  hats  and  coats  at  a  big 
the  dansant  Saturday  afternoon.  I  failed  to  get 
wise  to  the  address,  because  I  had  to  report  at  the  shop 
and  go  over  with  a  bunch  of  help  — •  waiters  and 
dishes  and  pastry  altogether.  We  managed  to  be 
pretty  gay  in  the  wagon  and  I  forgot  to  keep  tab  on 
the  blocks. 

It  was  a  tall  house  with  big  iron  gates  and  looked 
much  like  other  houses  outside,  but  a  wing  extending 
back  behind  their  next  door  neighbour  made  it  a 
regular  mansion  for  accommodation.  I  thought  the 
whole  lay-out  too  ornate  —  beamed  ceilings,  and  gold 
leaf,  and  mirrors,  hotel  style,  and  gold  furniture  with 
red  plush  seats.  Presently  the  Missus  showed  up. 
Her  outline  looked  like  a  figure  8  tipsy  drunk,  and 
she  wore  the  highest  heels  I've  ever  seen.  But  she 
wasn't  a  bit  the  grand  dame  with  us  —  no,  sir-ee ! 
She  knew  what  was  what  in  the  kitchen.  Why,  the 
way  she  laid  it  down  to  Sturani  you'd  have  thought 
she'd  been  a  cook  all  her  life. 


42 

After  a  while  we  sifted  into  our  places  and  the 
party  began. 

I  was  stationed  in  the  hall  taking  wraps,  and  Joe, 
an  old  hand  who  bossed  that  job,  passed  the  time 
giving  me  pointers.  Some  swells  filtered  in,  for  the 
house  though  ugly  was  sure  rich,  but  the  bulk  of  the 
guests  were  nobodies  —  old  ladies  rigged  up  like  the 
hostess,  and  young  ones  promising  to  adhere  to  type. 
If  you  remember,  the  first  of  the  dancing  craze  came 
along  with  the  last  of  the  tight  skirts.  Watching 
some  of  those  goddesses  waddle  upstairs  nearly  put 
me  out  of  business  —  Joe  said  I  mustn't  crack  a 
Smile,  and  very  soon  I  felt  like  crying. 

There  is  always  a  lull  between  the  first  batch  of 
visitors,  who  are  going  on,  and  the  second  lot  who 
have  been  somewhere  else.  All  the  lady  guests  had 
gone  directly  upstairs,  but  two  or  three  men  had 
walked  past  us,  without  asking  leave  or  liberty,  on 
down  the  long  hall  and  into  the  wing  smoking-room. 
While  we  were  slack,  Joe  was  sent  to  get  them  a 
drink. 

I  remained  gazing  idly  through  the  glass  vestibule, 
listening  to  the  music  and  wishing  I  was  upstairs 
footing  it,  when,  jumpin'  Jupiter !  Against  the  striped 
awning  marking  the  entrance  as  a  festive  place,  I 
saw  the  head  of  Howard  Griggs.  It  was  no  frolic- 
some nightmare.  His  buttonhole  rose  steadily  —  his 
cane  —  and  cutaway,  and  gloves,  each  upon  the  order 
of  its  coming.  In  a  jiffy  two  immaculate  white 
spats  would  stand  upon  the  threshold,  and  the  door 
swing  back.  Petrification ! 

Hearing  a  clink  of  glass  I  swung  around,  snatched 
the  tray  from  Joe  and  plunged  to  cover. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  43 

"  Door  was  open,"  somebody  said  as  I  entered 
between  heavy  curtains,  and  a  big  fellow  sitting  with 
his  back  towards  me  grunted. 

As  I  crossed  to  the  table  carrying  my  heavy  load, 
I  had  no  chance  to  gather  more  than  a  general  im- 
pression of  the  place  —  a  queer,  dark,  somber  room, 
full  of  grotesque  furniture  and  ugly  Art  interest. 
Black  wood  panelled  the  walls  almost  to  the  top,  and 
in  spots  struck  by  light  from  the  one  shaded  lamp 
it  gleamed  like  an  evil  eye.  Already,  in  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  thick  curtains  were  drawn  over 
every  window,  making  for  mystery;  and  the  men 
seated  there  seemed  to  oppress  each  other  and  the 
atmosphere  with  self-importance.  Need  of  refresh- 
ment had  evidently  interrupted  or  delayed  some  grave 
occasion. 

Coming  on  them  uninvited  that  way  made  me  feel 
jumpy;  and  going  forward  into  their  midst  was  as 
bad  as  facing  a  trial  by  jury. 

The  boss  motioned  me  to  set  my  tray  on  the  center 
table,  but  I  was  obliged  to  wait  while  they  cleared 
a  place.  Seeing  me  standing  by,  a  fellow  with  a  face 
like  a  horse  unfolded  from  his  chair,  as  you  might 
open  a  jackknife,  one  blade  after  another,  and  began 
to  shift  the  smokers'  things  and  magazines.  He  stood 
so  tall  his  head  was  lost  in  the  gloom  above  me,  and 
it  was  odd  to  watch  his  hands  —  long  hands  covered 
with  dark  hairs  growing  sparsely  on  womanish  skin 
—  moving  around  without  any  apparent  control. 
They  seemed  to  glide  over  the  objects,  and  to  hover 
near,  yet  avoid,  a  black  leather  wallet  and  a  package 
of  papers  lying  at  the  host's  elbow.  I  thought  of 
spirits  and  seances  —  and  of  Griggs.  It  looked  as 


44  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

though  everything  was  ready  for  proceedings  as  soon 
as  I  got  out  of  the  way. 

With  attention  riveted  on  the  table,  for  glass  is 
glass  and  I  didn't  hanker  after  any  juggling  stunts 
just  then,  I  leaned  over  to  set  the  tray  in  safety, 
but  my  eye  lit  on  the  wax  securing  their  papers,  and 
I  almost  dropped  the  lot  —  for  they  were  sealed  with 
the  sign  of  the  winged  snake;  Henri's  delirium  tremens, 
wiggly  tail  and  all,  modelled  there  in  official  red,  clear 
and  perfect. 

A  gasp  escaped  me  while  I  was  chasing  my  breath, 
and  one  of  the  men  remarked : 

"  Pretty  big  lift  for  a  little  girl." 

"  That'll  do,"  said  the  boss,  jerking  his  head  towards 
the  door,  and  I  was  obliged  to  quit.  But  I  only  dodged 
out  of  sight,  not  out  of  hearing,  they  had  to  reckon 
with  de  Grasse.  Ever  since  Henri  fluxed  his  soul 
into  mine,  this  snake  thing  had  been  blotching  it- 
self on  my  eyeballs,  and  I  had  been  racking  an  over- 
stimulated  brain  to  find  out  its  meaning.  That  it 
had  been  and  perhaps  still  was  of  immense  importance 
to  him  seemed  sure,  but  how  —  why  —  where  ? 
Seeing  the  spittin'  image  of  the  beast  on  Jacob's  table 
didn't  do  a  thing  to  my  curiosity.  I  was  crazy  to 
read  those  papers  and  find  out  about  the  seal,  and 
I'd  have  taken  any  risk  rather  than  lose  the  chance, 
so  I  opened  the  door  and  then  gave  it  a  smart  push 
as  I  popped  back  behind  the  curtains.  The  decided 
bang  following  closed  me  in  instead  of  out.  I  stood 
crouched  against  the  wall,  hardly  breathing  with  my 
heart  whacking  like  a  typewriter  and  my  eyes  glued 
to  the  crack. 

The  four  men  were  gathered  close  around  the  table 


I  was  crazy  to  read  those  papers  and  find  out  about  the  seal 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  45 

under  the  rays  of  a  powerful  light;  no  stage  setting 
ever  offered  a  better  opportunity  to  see;  but  they  fell 
at  once  into  a  sort  of  voice  cipher,  speaking  in  low, 
monotonous  tones  and  I  heard  little. 

"  That  door  wasn't  closed  last  time,"  murmured 
a  fidgety  fellow  almost  in  my  ear  as  he  tried  it.  Gee ! 
I  was  stiff  with  fright.  All  my  functions  stood  still 
till  he  got  back  to  his  seat  and  settled  himself. 

They  inspected  various  papers  and  O.  K.'d  them. 
They  all  had  a  drink  again,  and  finally  the  boss  drew 
that  little  black  wallet  towards  him.  My  suspense 
fairly  tingled. 

Deliberately  the  leader  removed  an  elastic  band 
from  the  pocketbook,  and  opened  its  two  flaps.  And 
he  dumped  out  —  a  mess  of  powders.  Just  ordinary 
pieces  of  folded  white  paper  —  I  was  never  so  let 
down  in  my  life! 

All  the  doctors,  for  they  must  have  been  doctors, 
I  reckoned  —  the  purse-proud  sort  that  fatten  out  of 
dying  millionaires  —  sat  regarding  the  medicine-pile 
fixedly  for  several  seconds.  Then  the  long-nosed  man 
opened  one,  shook  its  contents  together,  let  it  lie  ex- 
posed for  them  all  to  see,  and  did  it  up  nicely  and 
neatly  again.  He  opened  every  single  powder,  and  all 
the  time  I  had  to  stand  waiting,  I  couldn't  even  see 
whether  it  was  pink  pills  or  stuff  like  salts,  and  I  be- 
gan to  feel  awfully  weary,  and  wrondered  how  Joe  was 
making  out  at  the  door,  and  figured  my  chances  of 
getting  away  alive. 

When  they  had  thoroughly  inspected  the  contents, 
they  counted  those  blessed  powders  once  more,  and 
Mr.  Horse-Face  swept  them  off  the  end  of  the  table 
into  the  wallet  with  a  comprehensive  movement  of  his 


46  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

long  wrist.  The  boss  stood.  They  were  through. 
One  of  the  guests  raised  his  glass,  tasted  the  drink, 
smacked  his  lips,  and  said,  "  Good  liquor." 

"  We'll  have  in  some  ice  when  de  Sola's  finished," 
answered  the  host,  as  the  papers  were  bunched  to- 
gether. "  Can't  be  too  careful  —  don't  know  whose 
about  —  house  is  in  such  a  damned  muddle  to-day." 

"Deuced  pretty  little  girl  brought  the  last  —  where 
do  you  find  'em,  Jacobs?  "  The  speaker  sounded  re- 
laxed. I  could  hear  them  well  enough  when  they 
used  a  natural  voice,  and  I  saw  him  stretch  into 
comfort.  But  you  bet  I  didn't.  Something  was  go- 
ing to  happen,  fast.  I  had  my  eyes  peeled,  watching. 

The  boss  had  crossed  to  the  back  of  the  room,  be- 
side the  fireplace.  He  stepped  behind  a  big  chair 
and  reached  up  fingering  the  woodwork.  His  dark 
clothes  merged  into  the  shadows  of  the  black  wall, 
only  spots  of  white  could  be  distinguished,  a  strip  of 
collar,  and  his  hands,  and  the  bald  spot  on  his  head 
showing  like  a  bull's-eye. 

Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  his  stunt.  They  were 
all  talking  and  joking  most  congenial.  But  I'd 
hardly  said,  "  Empty  loft,"  to  myself,  when  an  ob- 
long panel  in  the  wainscot  sprang  open. —  You  could 
have  knocked  me  over  with  a  feather!  Of  course  I'd 
played  at  castles  with  moving  walls  and  hidden  cham- 
bers while  I  was  a  kid  —  what  youngster  doesn't  ?  — 
but  when  I  became  a  hard-headed  young  business 
woman  I  put  away  kiddish  things.  And  now  to  find 
them  coming  true  in  life! 

Well,  this  one  was  fact.  The  big  man  switched  on 
a  side  lamp  and  I  saw,  with  my  own  eyes,  a  deep  niche 
where  the  ends  of  similar  wallets  showed  neatly  stacked 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  47 

—  there  must  have  been  a  dozen  of  them.  While  we 
watched,  it  seemed  tha-t  Henri  was  trying  to  tell  me 
something.  To  make  me  do,  or  think  quick,  or  under- 
stand —  and  it  didn't  come  off.  I  knew  there  were 
plenty  of  communications  from  him  that  I  failed  to 
grasp  —  but  this  one  must  be  awfully  important,  and 
I  laid  my  soul  open  to  get  it.  Whatever  was  in  those 
wallets?  Whatever  could  be  in  a  powder  of  that 
size  valuable  enough,  or  dangerous  enough  to  hide 
away?  Patent  explosives?  Too  small.  A  secret 
treasure  in  a  doctor's  house  —  it  must  be  a  drug  — 
Opium!  Ah!  I  had  never  seen  opium  —  but,  of 
course,  Henri  would  be  on.  And  the  stuff  was  worth 
tanks  of  money. 

They  had  rung  for  ice,  and  I  felt  that  this  was  my 
grand  opportunity  to  slip  out;  but  I  felt  sure,  too, 
that  de  Grasse  was  going  to  stay  right  there  and  take 
a  chance  on  opening  that  cupboard  later.  And  I 
wished  we  had  noticed  the  movement  of  the  boss's 
fingers  more  particularly,  for  he  just  shoved  the  door 
close  and  left  it  —  a  section  of  the  lacquered  wall,  so 
very  similar  to  other  sections,  beautiful  and  innocent 
with  rows  of  carving  along  the  top  and  in  between. 

At  last  Jacobs  heaved  himself  out  of  his  chair  and 
said,  "  Rebecca'd  be  sore  if  they  didn't  show  up." 

He  poured  them  a  doch-an-doris  for  luck,  and  at 
that  my  knees  began  to  shake  literally  till  I  feared 
the  trembling  would  sure  discover  me.  Was  it  going 
to  be  possible  for  an  eavesdropping  maid  to  flatten 
herself  and  escape  detection?  I  had  moved  back  from 
the  chink  of  observation  and  could  see  nothing  in  the 
heavy  shadow,  but  whisky  and  perfume  strongly 
blended  assailed  my  protesting  nose  and  I  knew  they 


48  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

approached.  If  they  crowded  into  the  shallow  alcove 
at  the  door  —  if  any  of  them  shoved  against  me  — 
I  was  lost !  But  they  moved  like  thoroughbreds  upon 
the  order  of  their  going,  while  I  did  the  pancake  act 
and  prayed.  Their  fat  hands  swayed  the  curtains, 
one  by  one  their  sleek  black  heads  bobbed  between 
the  edges  of  my  velvet  screen  and  disappeared.  I 
relaxed  and  dropped  into  the  nearest  seat. 

A  number  of  people  happened  to  arrive  just  then, 
and  a  magpie  chattering  greeted  the  host.  I  noticed 
with  satisfaction  that  Joe  would  not  have  time  to 
search  for  me,  and  I  was  reasonably  safe  from  intrud- 
ing guests  as  the  room  lay  out  of  the  way;  but,  of 
course,  I  dared  not  close  myself  in  lest  Jacobs  return. 
To  arrange  the  curtains  with  closed  edges  remained 
my  only  security,  and  a  precious  slim  one.  Still,  risk 
it  I  must.  Softly  I  stole  across  the  room  and  care- 
fully and  minutely  examined  the  panels  covering  their 
treasure.  The  secret  was  well  hidden.  I  climbed 
upon  a  chair  bringing  my  eyes  nearer  to  the  field, 
though  realizing  the  position  doomed  me  in  case  of 
interruption.  Being  a  novice  in  the  detective  job  kept 
me  horribly  uneasy.  For  a  time  my  eyes  and  fingers 
joined  frantically  in  the  search,  but  the  lamp  throw- 
ing its  bright  rays  on  my  illegal  actions  strung  my 
nerves  so  skittishly  I  switched  it  off.  Luck  must 
serve  for  or  against  me  anyway  —  I  might  as  well 
feel  for  the  blooming  springs  in  the  safety  of  dark- 
ness. Feel  for  them  I  did,  madly,  nimbly,  frisking 
my  fingers  over  the  fine  carved  mouldings  —  but  with- 
out result.  Time  flew,  at  any  instant  I  was  likely  to 
be  frightened  off,  prevented.  I'd  never  be  in  the 
house  again  —  never  have  another  chance. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  49 

"  Now,  now,  now !  I've  got  to  see  it  now ! "  I 
cried,  in  my  excitement  forgetting  caution  and  bang- 
ing my  fists  on  the  offending  wall.  A  low  whirring 
answered.  I  had  started  something  sure!  Burglar 
alarms?  Was  I  trapped? 

Fear  impelled  me  to  my  old  hiding  place,  sense  told 
me  to  beat  it,  and  perhaps  be  able  to  dodge  out;  but 
something,  Henri  perhaps,  petrified  me  to  the  spot. 
I  knew  I  had  to  see  that  panel  open,  and  if  it  was 
the  springs  I'd  struck  —  maybe  it  had  buzzed  for 
Jacobs  and  I  hadn't  been  able  to  hear  it  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room.  I  switched  on  the  light  and  glued 
my  eyes  to  the  wall  directly  in  front  of  me.  Quiver- 
ing like  an  aspen  and  listening  with  the  pores  of  my 
skin,  I  waited.  A  matter  of  seconds  it  was,  but  being 
so  concentrated  on  the  wrong  idea  I  missed  the  real 
thing. 

A  voice  spoke  close  beside  me  and  I  jumped  clean 
into  the  air,  whirling  face  about. 

The  sound  had  not  come  from  behind  me  and  no 
one  was  in  the  library.  I  saw  that,  while  I  was  so 
intently  watching  for  the  little  door  to  pop  open,  a 
whole  lower  panel  of  the  side  wall  had  slid  back 
leaving  me  opposite  the  entrance  into  another  room  — 
or  closet.  The  voice  came  from  there. 

It  was  a  small  corner  not  offering  much  comfort,  as 
comfort  went  in  Jacobs's  house.  By  a  table  sat  a 
gaunt  figure  wrapped  in  a  worn  gray  dressing-gown. 
Her  hair  was  gray,  her  very  flesh  seemed  gray,  and 
most  uncanny  of  all  her  eyes  were  bandaged. 

"  I  see  him.  I  see  him,"  she  mumbled.  "  I  see 
him  all  the  time." 

And   immediately,    as   though    answering   her,    de 


50  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Grasse  told  me.  "  She  did  it  —  I  might  have  known 
she'd  get  me,"  hatred  and  admiration  mingled  in  his 
words.  His  stab  at  my  understanding  was  subcon- 
scious of  course,  yet  it  was  as  clear  as  if  you  were 
asking  for  sugar  in  your  morning  coffee. 

From  the  first  I  felt  a  strong  familiarity  with  this 
old  woman.  She  repulsed  me,  and  in  spite  of  that 
I  understood  a  great  wrong  was  being  or  had  been 
done  her;  not  a  tragic  but  a  comic  wrong,  and  I 
commenced  by  tolerating  her  with  a  sort  of  humorous 
pity.  I  felt  a  bit  as  if  one  had  put  up  a  huge  prac- 
tical joke  and  the  joke  had  stalemated  —  which  was 
odd,  considering  what  Henri  had  just  told  me. 

Aside  from  the  horrible  surprise  of  meeting  her, 
and  my  strange  position  I  was  scared  of  her  too. 
Scared  as  a  shaver  is  scared  when  he  is  going  to  be 
whipped.  Henri  didn't  seem  to  have  any  of  the  dig- 
nity of  the  murdered.  He  was  scared  of  her 
authority. 

My  brain  was  running  like  a  trip-hammer,  setting 
up  question  marks  all  along  the  line.  My  first  curi- 
osity about  the  winged  snake,  Henri's  confidential 
connection  with  the  wealthy  Jacobs's  secret  paled  into 
insignificance  before  the  fact  that  Jacobs  was  pro- 
tecting Henri's  murderer.  Here  was  I  face  to  face 
with  a  perfect  stranger,  a  woman  three  times  my  age, 
down  on  her  luck  and  suffering  from  a  physical  handi- 
cap; not  at  all  the  class  or  type  to  have  intrigued  de 
Grasse.  He  recognized  her  as  his  murderer  and  yet  he 
didn't  pitch  into  her.  Instead  he  trembled  toward  her 
as  a  puppy  to  its  master,  a  cub  toward  a  stern  guardian. 
I  twigged  at  once  that  whatever  the  old  dame  had  done 
to  Henri,  Henri  had  jolly  well  deserved  it. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  51 

Torn  between  guilt  and  a  hang-dog  desire  to  help  her 
I  moved  cautiously  forward.  De  Grasse  hadn't  made 
clear  to  me  what  his  intention  was  —  and  I  never 
knew.  Very  often  I  acted  on  impulse  —  his  impulse 
—  and  discovered  the  motive  to  myself  after  the  fact. 
Now  I  was  moving  vaguely,  and  as  quiet  as  a  mouse, 
but  the  blind  have  quick  ears.  She  heard  me  and 
turned. 

"  Is  that  you,  Samuel  ?     What  news  ?  " 

Her  masterful  tone  sent  an  electric  thrill  down  my 
spine.  I  had  thought  it  a  case  of  a  kind  word  to 
a  poor  blind  thing,  blind  and  easy  to  circumvent.  She 
made  me  realize  I  was  the  one  most  likely  to  need 
help  and  I  turned  to  quit.  Then  what  I  saw  made  my 
blood  freeze.  The  panel  was  closing!  Quietly, 
swiftly,  surely  moving  into  place,  operated  by  a  time 
lock. 

With  one  stifled  scream  I  leaped  for  the  gap.  The 
prisoner  echoed  my  yell  in  a  panic  of  fear  and  grabbed 
the  lace  of  my  apron.  I  pulled  to  wrench  the  stuff 
from  her  hold.  She  held  on  like  a  vice.  I  tore  at 
the  strings  to  get  the  thing  off  —  I  was  thumbs  — 
thumbs  —  thumbs ! 

Only  for  a  moment  her  nerves  had  the  better  of  her; 
as  soon  as  she  recognized  the  feel  of  the  mousselin  she 
cried  out  sharply,  "  A  woman !  "  and  raised  her  hand 
to  the  bandages. 

The  echo  of  her  first  words  rushed  over  me.  I 
sensed  foul  play,  that  her  eyes  were  covered  to  keep 
out  the  vision  of  Henri's  corpse  —  whatever  her  mad 
whim,  she  must  not  see  me,  must  not  have  a  tag  on 
me  for  the  rest  of  life.  In  a  frenzy  of  terror  I  struck 
at  her,  and  she  sank  into  the  chair,  whimpering,  moan- 


'52  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ing.  As  I  sprang  through  the  wall  to  safety  she  cried 
aloud  and  I  turned  and  looked. 

She  had  torn  the  bandage  down,  and  above  it  her 
live  eyes  glared  viciously  —  not  blind,  not  even 
cowed,  but  full  of  hate.  So  we  regarded  each  other, 
I  in  stupefication,  a  new  sense  of  familiarity  dawning 
on  me,  and  she  mad  to  the  bone.  It  was  a  terrible 
minute  while  the  treacherous  panel  glided  between  us 
and  closed.  The  whirring  of  its  machinery  stopped. 
I  cast  myself  on  the  floor  and  sobbed  with  the  muffler 
cut  out. 

From  sobbing  I  went  into  a  sort  of  swoon,  and  I 
don't  know  how  much  of  the  afternoon  passed  before 
sounds  aroused  me  —  footfalls.  My  breath  still  came 
with  a  catch  that  I  couldn't  control.  The  steps  hesi- 
tated, and  began  to  approach  again  stealthily.  They 
came  right  on  to  the  big  chair.  I  wondered  if  it  was 
somebody  else  after  the  secret.  I  bit  my  lips  to  keep 
back  the  little  sighing  sniffs. 

Springs  creaked.  Evidently  the  intruder  had 
seated  himself.  Doubtless  I  was  caged  by  a  harm- 
less guest  stealing  off  for  a  quiet  smoke;  whatever 
would  he  think,  what  could  he  think  if  he  found  one 
of  the  maids  in  a  heap  on  the  floor  with  those  de- 
canters so  suggestively  near? 

It  was  clearly  up  to  me  to  assert  my  dignity  —  the 
first  thing  to  get  on  my  feet,  without  detection,  if 
possible.  Cautiously  I  raised  my  head  and  looked  up 
—  straight  into  the  face  of  Howard  Griggs  who  was 
peering  over  the  chair  back. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet.  The  maid's  dress,  my  ambi- 
guous position,  pulling  the  social  wool  over  his  eyes  and 
all  such  nonsense  fled  before  the  need  of  help.  Relief, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  53 

joy  —  sheer,  radiant  joy  at  seeing  a  safe  person  in- 
stead of  the  dubious  stranger  I  expected,  rushed  pell- 
mell  over  me ;  and  I  in  turn  overwhelmed  poor  Griggs. 
My  black  and  white  garb  and  scared  face  looked 
spooky,  and  he  was  a  believer  in  manifestations. 

He  sat  back  on  his  heels,  gazing  dum  founded  till 
I  gave  one  of  those  laggard,  rasping  sobs. 

"  Jove !  You  !  "  he  gasped.  "  I  thought  it  was  a 
dog  —  I'm  fond  of  dogs." 

"  And  I  took  you  for  a  cat  —  you  walked  cattish." 
We  laughed  —  the  high  spasmodic  cackle  of  excite- 
ment, and  in  the  middle  of  it  I  slapped  my  hand  over 
his  mouth.  "Hist!" 

My  gentleman  turned  purple;  but  I  commenced  to 
talk  quick,  standing  close  and  speaking  into  his  ear. 

"Listen!  Who  are  these  people?  What  is  wrong 
with  this  house?  " 

In  one  embarrassed  breath  he  told  me  he  didn't 
know  the  people,  hadn't  even  the  honor  of  their  name, 
had  arrived  by  mistake  and  stayed  out  of  inability  to 
break  away. 

"  I  was  invited  to  some  other  bally  place  — 
streets  all  sixes  and  sevens  —  what  do  you  expect  ? 
They  bagged  me  here  because  I  met  a  girl  upstairs 
whom  I  did  know." 

I  brushed  the  missing  link  aside.  "  This  house  is 
queer  —  it's  wrong.  But  of  course  if  you  don't  know 
them  — "  Answering  his  incredulous  stare  I  hissed, 
"  I've  just  seen  the  woman  who  murdered  de  Grasse." 

"  Thundering  stars !  What  are  you  doing  here  in 
these  clothes  ? "  he  asked  suddenly.  "  Are  you 
nutty?" 

"  Never  mind  the  clothes  —  I'll  explain  some  day. 


54  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Concentrate  on  the  idea  that  I've  got  to  get  away 
quick.  She  saw  me,  and  she'll  tell.  She'll  not  lose 
time  telling.  They'll  trap  me.  They  are  dangerous, 
evil  people.  They've  got  opium  hidden  —  I  saw  it. 
The  walls  open.  It's  an  awful  den! 

"  Howard  Griggs,"  I  cried,  taking  him  by  the 
shoulders.  "  Wake  up !  Get  out  of  that  chair.  Help 
me,  help  me!  I  tell  you  I've  got  to  escape." 

"  Jove,  yes !  "  He  blinked  several  times  in  rapid 
succession,  fumbling  for  his  eyeglass.  "  I'll  fetch  a 
cloak  —  you  can't  go  about  that  way  —  and  I'll  call 
a  car."  He  was  gone. 

I  sneaked  behind  the  portieres  and  waited,  but  not  for 
long.  Griggs's  dispatch  amazed  me.  I  reckon  he  must 
have  done  the  John-Bullying  act  again  good  and  lively ; 
but  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  only  sauntered  up,  asked 
for  Miss  Swanhill's  coat,  screwed  his  monocle  into 
place,  intimidated  Joe  by  a  cold  scrutiny  and  sent  him 
on  an  errand.  Then  I  walked  out  wrapped  in  velvet 
to  my  feet;  and  at  the  curb  he  put  me  into  a  private 
brougham.  So  long  as  he  stayed  inside  the  social  pad- 
dock, Howard  took  his  high  jumps  as  well  as  any- 
body I  ever  saw  —  but  he  was  no  range  mustang. 

"  Drive  Miss  Kendall  home,  and  return  —  Miss 
Swanhill  is  leaving  late,"  he  ordered.  And  to  me, 
"The  Waldorf?" 

My  own  address  signified  nothing  to  a  stranger. 
Griggs  repeated  it  to  the  wondering  man,  with  utmost 
aplomb,  and  leaned  pinkly  through  the  open  window. 

"  I'm  going  up  to  dance  with  my  lady  now  —  keep 
her  occupied,  you  know  —  and  —  I  hate  her !  Don't 
worry,  the  feeling  isn't  mutual  —  you  will  have  plenty 
of  time.  See  you  to-morrow." 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  55 

I  squeezed  his  hand,  flashing  my  thanks,  wordless; 
and  a  moment  later,  all  in  a  svvither,  I  was  speeding 
towards  Madame  Buniva's. 

Swither  is  one  of  Granny's  Scotch  expressions.  It 
exactly  describes  the  state  of  my  mind  and  pulse  when 
that  ride  began.  After  a  while  I  felt  quieter  and 
glanced  about,  taking  in  every  detail  of  the  swell  little 
automobile.  Griggs's  friend  evidently  enjoyed  most  of 
the  good  things  of  this  world.  All  sorts  of  dodgy 
conveniences  were  fitted  into  its  pearl  gray  upholstery, 
among  others  a  case  filled  with  women's  implements 
in  gold  and  crystal.  I  pounced  on  the  salts  bottle. 
Gee !  it  was  strong  stuff  —  but  it  helped !  A  sneeze  or 
two  set  my  machinery  working  O.  K. 

Our  elegant  seclusion  afforded  Henri  five  minutes 
to  gather  his  bearings  and  think.  Memory  seized  on 
one  circumstance  after  another,  and  dropped  this,  and 
picked  up  that,  and  brought  them  all  forward  like  a 
ride-and-tie  race,  eventually  arriving  at  the  conclusion 
we  hadn't  much  chance  if  Samuel  Jacobs  got  wise  to 
our  whereabouts.  We  could  trust  Griggs,  he  being  a 
gentleman,  more  keenly  interested  than  ever,  and  not 
likely  to  split.  The  chauffeur  was  another  matter. 
Still  pondering  I  sniffed  a  bracing  whifter,  and  the 
dinky  bottle  in  my  hand  gave  de  Grasse  an  idea  —  a 
revolutionary,  deck-sweeping  inspiration  —  but  we 
must  first  put  them  off  the  scent.  Having  thrown  them 
the  clue  of  my  correct  address  this  promised  difficulty, 
for  the  driver  was  not  likely  to  forget  such  an  un- 
usual locality,  and  I  had  no  tip  to  pledge  his  silence. 
Twice  already  he  had  stopped  to  ask  if  it  was  right, 
and  kept  on,  frankly  under  protest,  into  what  he  con- 
sidered the  slums. 


56  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Fortunately,  when  we  arrived,  it  was  meal-time  and 
few  of  my  neighbors  were  hanging  around  outside. 
I  had  removed  my  apron  and  slipped  the  bottle  down 
my  stocking.  Now  I  let  him  see  me  shed  the  hand- 
some cloak  and  put  it  back  in  the  car. 

"  You  have  brought  me  too  far,"  I  said.  "  But 
I  am  much  obliged  all  the  same." 

Then  I  turned  deliberately  away  from  Madame's 
and  walked  to  the  third  door.  It  was  an  odd,  flat 
building  in  a  row  of  mansard-roofs  —  a  bum  board- 
ing-house where  persons  flitted  over  night  —  I  was 
certain  he  would  remember  it.  As  I  paused  to  ring, 
I  could  see  the  man  staring,  but  only  for  a  minute. 
He  shot  away  before  the  door  opened,  and  I  beat  it 
down  those  stairs  and  into  Buniva's  straight  up  to 
my  own  room,  thanking  my  lucky  stars  that  such  a 
stylish  arrival  had  not  created  more  excitement. 

I  sat  on  the  bed  panting.  We  were  sure  in  wrong, 
and  Henri  said  it  was  best  to  quit  cold.  "  Everything 
is  a  beginning."  Tish!  I'd  come  near  making  an 
end  of  that  old  woman  and  wasn't  ambitious  to  stay 
in  the  town  with  her  hunting  me.  I  might  have  put 
the  chauffeur  off  the  track,  but  it  would  be  a  cinch 
to  trace  the  maid  —  and  I  had  driven  the  final  nail 
into  my  coffin  with  a  gold-topped  bottle.  I'd  have 
both  search  parties  on  the  rampage  unless  Griggs 
squared  me. 

Packing  proved  simple.  My  old  clothes  had  been 
left  at  the  caterer's.  I  dressed  in  my  best,  put  a  few 
articles  in  Granny's  bag,  laid  the  nugget,  the  bottle 
and  my  purse,  with  all  our  ready  money,  on  top,  and 
sallied  forth.  But  first  I  wrote  a  note  to  Buniva. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  57 

"Dear  Madame: 

"  I'm  stony,  and  going  away  to  take  a  better  job. 
Please  don't  say  anything  to  anybody.  I  won't  for- 
get the  two  weeks'  board. 

"  Hastily, 

"  CLARISSA  KENDALL. 

"  P.S.     Sturani's  uniform  is  in  the  bureau  drawer. 

"  C.  K." 


No  dinner  for  me  that  evening  —  and  not  a  mo- 
ment to  spare.  I  had  to  pay  a  visit  to  my  uncle. 
I  chose  a  different  place  this  time,  better  class,  as  I 
was  better  dressed  and  pawning  gold,  and  I  left  a 
different  name. 

"  My  day  for  Jews,"  I  thought,  as  the  smelling  salts 
and  the  nugget  vanished  into  the  fat  hand,  so  like 
those  other  fat  white  hands  it  made  me  shudder.  I 
saw  again  the  old  woman's  malign  eyes  glinting  above 
her  bandages,  and  I  remembered  I  had  told  Griggs  she 
murdered  de  Grasse.  That  was  going  far.  Should 
the  Englishman  be  afflicted  with  a  sense  of  public 
duty  he  might  fry  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish.  Not  that 
I  cared  except  to  keep  out  myself.  Tinging  my 
lenience  toward  her  now  came  the  lust  for  vengeance. 
I  recognized  this  as  my  own  personal  feeling  on 
Henri's  behalf.  We  both  knew  she  was  a  bad  dog 
to  have  on  our  heels. 

Not  until  the  northern  train  was  roaring  and  rac- 
ing through  tunnels  with  me  safely  tucked  into  a  Pull- 
man corner,  did  I  get  to  looking  on  the  other  side  of 


58  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

the  picnic.  Somewhere  in  the  night  ahead  lay  Cobalt 
and  Romance  —  we  were  indeed  launched  on  an  im- 
mense adventure.  My  spirits  rocketed. 

"  Clarissa  Kendall,"  said  I.  "  What  a  chump  you 
are  not  to  have  done  it  before?"  And  I'm  afraid 
my  self-reproach  referred  to  borrowing  that  bottle. 


CHAPTER  V 

American  sleeping  cars  are  the  national  proof  of  our 
high  moral  character.  Of  late  years  we  seem  to  be 
slipping  back  —  or  is  it  forward  ?  —  to  drawing- 
room  coaches  and  the  secluded  variability  of  central 
Europe.  But  the  twenty- four  bedded  Pullman,  as 
originally  constructed,  will  always  be  remembered  to 
our  credit.  My  hasty  exit  from  New  York  was  the 
first  time  I  had  ever  met  up  with  one  of  'em;  and  to 
add  to  the  insult  I  could  only  get  a  top  berth. 

Sleep  didn't  woo  me  much;  when  it  did  I  dreamed. 
Old  women  started  out  of  graves  and  trap  doors 
opened  like  the  jaws  of  death.  Perhaps  I  talked 
some.  They  kept  on  rapping  and  tapping  below  and 
sishing  for  silence.  Once  the  man  next  door  pounded 
good  and  hard.  Such  cheek !  He  was  bunked  head 
to  feet,  our  pillows  must  have  lain  about  as  close  as 
married  people's,  with  only  a  thin  board  between,  and 
right  there  I  made  up  my  mind,  so  help  me,  never  to 
splice  with  a  man  who  snored. 

Finally,  I  grew  so  tired  of  the  orchestra,  and  lying 
on  the  half  shell,  I  rang  for  the  little  set  of  steps 
and  climbed  down  into  the  gray  cold  morning.  Gray, 
did  I  say?  Blue,  indigo  of  the  deepest  dye,  the  early 
hour  slump  at  its  worst !  Our  porter  saved  my  life  by 
tipping  me  to  beat  it  to  the  dining-car  right  after 
Buffalo.  All  the  hungry  folk  had  turned  in  early,  and 
I  got  the  last  vacant  table,  and  snatched  the  bill-of- 

59 


60  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

fare,  for  I  was  ravenous.  One  glance  was  enough 
to  convince  me  I  could  only  afford  coffee  and  rolls, 
and  I  went  through  the  form  of  writing  that  order 
with  death  knocking  at  my  hopes.  When  the  waiter 
vanished,  I  leaned  on  the  table  twiddling  my  pencil, 
a  picture  of  woe.  What  was  coming  next  —  out 
there  in  the  wilds?  What  if  I  failed  to  locate  Ross? 
What  if  Henri  failed  me?  Stray  flakes  of  snow 
drove  against  the  pane;  it  grew  colder.  My  suit, 
warm  enough  in  New  York,  would  be  like  a  veil  to 
the  Cobalt  wind.  I  began  to  figure  the  cost  of  eat- 
ing lunch  and  dinner  in  Toronto. 

My  mind,  weary  from  excitement  and  lack  of  rest, 
slipped  a  cog.  Fancy  travelled  backward  over 
yesterday's  events.  I  saw  it  all  —  Joe  answering  the 
door^  Griggs's  head  like  a  pink  balloon  rising  above 
the  step,  those  four  in  the  Chinese  room,  the  seal,  the 
papers,  the  long-nosed  man  counting  powders,  their 
cache.  Curiosity  about  those  papers  knew  no  bounds. 
Why  were  they  sealed  with  our  winged  snake,  and 
what  had  the  reptile  to  do  with  Henri?  What  was 
the  snake  anyway?  In  idleness  I  began  to  trace  the 
figure,  as  I  had  seen  it,  on  the  table  cloth.  Clarissa 
isn't  much  with  a  pencil,  but  gradually  the  image  of 
the  thing  appeared  —  its  naughty  head,  the  two  out- 
spread wings  with  their  strange  hieroglyphics,  and, 
last,  its  wiggly  tail.  Henri  and  I  were  so  interested 
in  the  creation,  we  failed  to  notice  when  somebody 
sat  down  opposite.  It  was  the  man's  reaching  for  the 
order  pad  stirred  us  up  to  look  at  him. 

He  was  a  well-dressed,  well-built  chap  under  thirty, 
with  the  sort  of  manner  Henri  calls  successful;  but 
I'm  sure  an  English  dude  like  Griggs  would  have  con- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  61 

sidered  him  "  fresh."  If  a  skin  looking  clean  and 
healthy  and  well-groomed,  in  spite  of  not  being  shaved, 
clear  eyes  and  perfect  teeth  were  all  that  went  to  the 
freshness,  the  term  was  no  term  of  reproach.  His 
thin-lipped  mouth  showed  humorous  corners,  and 
above  a  flat  forehead  a  thick  crop  of  brown  hair  rose 
straight  on  end.  Perhaps  the  pompadour  gave  him 
an  extra  wide  awake  appearance,  he  certainly  looked 
smart  —  not  referring  to  clothes  but  to  his  head-piece. 
The  newcomer  was  on  the  heavy  side  for  an  athlete, 
though  he  might  have  been  one  in  his  college  days, 
and  too  expeditious  for  a  man  of  leisure.  Put  him 
down,  therefore,  as  an  excellent  example  of  an  all- 
round  American  business  man,  no  southern,  or  New 
England,  or  western  type  —  just  a  two  or  three  gener- 
ation American,  of  British  stock,  keen,  genial, 
straight- forward. 

He  glanced  the  menu  over  in  a  business-like  way 
and  then  wrote  at  length,  while  I  chewed  my  remain- 
ing bun,  mixed  with  the  cud  of  reflection.  Oh,  I  had 
lots  to  think  about  —  grievances  in  plenty  —  a  per- 
sistent emptiness  below  the  belt  not  among  the  least, 
and  hearing  that  man  give  his  order  was  the  last 
straw :  orange  juice,  cream  of  wheat,  shirred  eggs  with 
country  sausages  and  flap-jacks  on  the  side,  and  a  full 
accompaniment  of  coffee  and  hot  buttered  toast.  Evi- 
dently he  had  nothing  to  do  but  eat  until  he  reached 
Toronto.  And  the  smells! 

I  rose  in  famished  indignation  and  swept  from  the 
scene,  but  at  the  door  I  couldn't  resist  a  backward 
glance.  He  had  changed  his  place  and  was  sitting  in 
my  seat  studying  the  drawing  I  had  left  behind.  Up- 
side down  and  down-side  up  he  eyed  the  creature, 


62  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

and  then  he  whipped  out  a  red  leather  notebook  and 
proceeded  to  copy  the  winged  snake. 

"  Make  a  hit-you-in-the-eye  trade  mark,"  William 
Watson  Duffy  commented  to  himself,  as  he  snapped 
the  elastic  band  and  replaced  the  book  in  his  pocket, 
before  turning  his  attention  to  his  grub. 

Believe  me,  the  Lord's  Day  Alliance  have  made  it 
a  grand  bore  to  put  in  a  Sunday  alone  in  Canada.  I 
wandered  around  till  I  was  footsore  and  weary,  going 
light  on  car  fare,  for  every  dime  counts  when  you're 
not  sure  how  or  where  the  next  dollar  can  be  gleaned, 
but  at  that  I  payed  a  lot  for  storage  on  my  body;  we 
all  do  all  the  while,  not  half  realizing  it.  Walking 
costs  boot-leather,  and  sitting  means  a  continual  drain 
in  hard  cash.  Sitting  in  vehicles  costs  hire,  sitting 
in  homes  costs  rents,  sitting  in  hotels  costs  drinks 
and  feeds — >as  I  discovered.  Wrhen  flesh  and  blood 
could  stand  no  more,  I  found  a  cosy  corner  in  a 
mezzanine  palm  room,  and  I  don't  know  how  many 
times  I  ordered  tea  and  toast  from  three  to  five. 

Luck  was  fairly  hunting  me  all  the  same.  While 
I  was  leaning  there  on  the  marble  rail,  watching  the 
men  in  the  rotunda  below,  I  suddenly  spied  a  familiar 
figure. 

"  Ross !  Or,  I'll  eat  my  hat !  "  I  cried,  pushing  for 
a  bell  hop.  And  when  the  kid  came  I  put  the  question 
straight. 

"  Yarsh,"  he  replied,  changing  his  wad  of  gum  to 
the  other  cheek.  "  Charley  Ross  —  Cobalt,  whatcher 
want?  " 

"  Look  who's  here ! "  my  gold  man  cried  a  few 
minutes  later,  standing  like  a  pillar  under  the  low  ceil- 
ing, and  blotting  out  the  rest  of  the  room  with  his 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  63 

breadth.  I  guessed  from  his  hearty  handshake  we 
were  glad  to  meet  again.  It  was  just  as  if  we  had 
never  stopped  getting  along  —  as  if  Griggs  had  never 
butted  in. 

Of  course  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  dissuade  me  from 
going  North,  but,  seeing  I  didn't  budge  from  my  de- 
termination, he  promised  to  be  godfather  to  the  enter- 
prise. 

"  I'm  not  living  in  the  heart  of  Cobalt,  you  know, 
my  claim  lies  up  river,  but  I'll  be  there  to-morrow 
morning  and  fix  you  up.  Maybe  seeing  me  around 
will  frighten  some  of  the  wildcats  away." 

My  eyes  sparkled.  "  Wildcats !  Are  there  really 
beasts  of  prey  —  is  it  so  wild  —  can  we  hunt?  I'm 
out  for  adventure  —  I'm  crazy  about  it!  " 

He  laughed  uproariously.  "  Women  beat  the 
Dutch !  Of  course,  if  you're  out  for  adventure,  some- 
body's got  to  fall.  But  why  do  you  pick  upon  me?  " 

His  laugh  and  his  twinkling  eyes  and  this  sort  of 
talk,  showed  he  was  pleased  as  Punch  over  taking 
Clarissa  on  a  holiday.  For  there  being  only  one  train 
and  our  tickets  reading  the  same  date,  we  were  more 
or  less  obliged  to  go  together.  In  fact  he  swiped  the 
charge  of  me  from  the  minute  we  met,  and  blew  me  to 
an  elegant  dinner  with  several  mining  men  gathered 
round  the  festive  board.  It  was  a  good  beginning. 
Henri  played  up  in  crackerjack  form,  and  whenever 
he's  at  his  highest  pitch,  I  queen  it.  The  fellows 
seemed  quite  overcome  by  mirth  and  amazement,  and 
Ross  showed  off  his  performing  bear  like  a  master 
mountebank,  roaring  almost  continuously  himself. 

The  gang  put  up  a  joke  on  us,  telegraphed  ahead, 
and  had  the  Cobalt  boys  meet  us  with  a  royal  welcome. 


64  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  was  all  sunned  up  and  some  looker  when  I  stepped 
on  to  the  platform;  and,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  my 
heavy  escort,  I'd  have  been  mobbed. 

Mining  costume  —  khaki  riding  pants,  leather 
leggings,  a  blue  flannel  shirt,  and  any  number  of  thick 
wool  sweaters  piled  on  according  to  the  weather  — 
made  Ross  look  about  the  size  of  a  heathen  god;  and 
being  god  on  his  own  claim  he  voted  himself  leave. 
For  a  week  we  played  together,  seeing  everything  and 
everybody.  He  got  wise  to  my  being  short  of  the 
ready,  when  I  hung  back  from  buying  proper  clothes, 
and  took  a  little  flyer  in  stock  on  my  account;  and 
then  settled  me  for  a  morning's  interview  with 
Timothy  Eaton's  catalogue.  The  result,  a  trans- 
formed Clarissa,  in  clothes  exactly  seconding  his  own, 
met  with  more  than  approval.  Maybe  he  thought  I'd 
get  fed  up  being  treated  so  swell,  and  pack  and  quit. 
He'd  given  me  seven  days  to  tire  of  mining;  by  the 
end  of  that  time  I  was  just  getting  into  my  stride. 

For  one  thing  I  had  negotiated  to  pitch  tent  at  the 
doctor's.  A  clean  room,  and  good  food,  and  not  too 
much  interference  from  his  short-tempered,  full- 
bosomed  Irish  housekeeper,  seemed  princely  compared 
to  Towne's  Temperance  Hotel,  or  even  to  my  bunk 
at  Buniva's.  And  another  very  ample  reason  cropped 
up  in  my  having  begun  to  make  a  living  without  work- 
ing so  hard  that  you'd  notice  it.  Every  now  and 
again  somebody  would  offer  to  buy  or  sell  for  me  and 
cover  before  it  was  time  to  put  up  margin.  Occa- 
sionally, it  came  off.  When  it  didn't,  he  paid  the 
piper.  Henri  held  this  was  a  piker's  game  and  just 
like  a  woman  —  but  it  made  the  mare  go. 

Gradually,  I  came  to  understand  the  ins  and  outs 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  65 

and  ups  and  downs  of  mining,  the  raging  hope  and 
bitter  disappointments  which  make  these  men  mer- 
curial. Ross  had  foreshadowed  the  business  to  me  at 
"  The  Girl  of  the  Golden  West ";  and  now  he  showed 
me  the  actual  operation  from  one  end  to  the  other  on 
his  own  mine  —  the  Victoria.  She  was  a  good  claim. 
Her  veins  had  assayed  splendidly  —  till  they  side- 
stepped. Now  it  was  up  to  the  boss  to  outwit  faults, 
relocate  his  fortune  and  get  her  going  again;  so 
presently,  he  cut  away  from  me  and  the  town  life, 
and  settled  to  it  tooth  and  nail.  Still  there  was  more 
fun  going  in  Cobalt  any  week  than  I'd  had  in  my 
whole  life  before. 

The  Doc's  house  being  central  I  grew  kind  of 
central  too.  Some  of  the  bunch  were  always  dropping 
in  for  a  game. 

"Which  game?"  Doc  asked. 

There  must  have  been  a  dozen  flirting  with  me,  and 
some  hard  hit  —  but  nix  on  the  sentiment  for  Henri. 
Every  evening  the  deck  came  out  sooner  or  later,  and 
that  is  where  we  made  our  killing.  De  Grasse  is  some 
little  poker  player,  believe  me !  We  won  consistently, 
and  the  boys,  white  sports  and  bred  in  the  bone 
gamblers,  liked  me  the  better  for  it. 

Cobalt  was  a  boom  town  in  that  day  and  not  with- 
out its  features :  the  drug  store,  because  of  temperance 
the  rendezvous  of  good  cheer,  and  the  club,  a  very 
select  institution  putting  a  bold  face  on  its  main  line  of 
business  and  calling  itself  "The  Mess."  If  a  native 
belonged  to  the  Mess,  he  was  in  it  —  otherwise  away 
out  at  the  back  door.  A  conglomerate  gang,  twenty 
or  more  members,  they  all  counted  themselves  my  in- 
timate friends.  Certain  personalities  stood  forth  as 


66  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

mirthmakers  or  were  noted  for  a  genial  grouch,  but 
Terrance  O'Shaughnessy,  familiarly  known  as  the 
"  Terrier,"  remained  unquestioned  leader.  Brown  of 
skin,  blue  of  eye,  ready  of  tongue,  he  was  a  very  live 
wire  indeed.  His  small  head  and  delicate  features 
giving  the  lie  to  iron  muscles  invited  trouble  and  in- 
directly made  him  famous,  for  loud  mouthed  fellows 
didn't  hesitate  to  pick  a  quarrel,  and  many  a  one  wore 
his  music-box  out  of  condition  in  consequence.  The 
hero  of  a  hundred  scraps  added  distinction  by  cursed 
bad  luck,  endless  endurance,  and  a  weakness  for  the 
fair  sex;  this  being  a  gentlemanly  inclination  touched 
with  the  magic  gift  of  understanding,  we  all  en- 
couraged him.  Don't  mistake  me.  He  was  no  lap 
dog.  The  fastest  paddler  in  a  bush  country  enforces 
respect  among  men  —  but  as  a  gambler  —  save  the 
name!  Every  deal  left  him  done  brown  on  both 
sides  and  crisp  at  the  edges. 

By  deduction  the  "  Terrier  "  must  have  been  a  re- 
mittance man.  He  lived  high  at  the  Mess,  with  his 
hand  always  in  his  pocket  and  several  kegs  of  the 
best  brand  open  in  his  room ;  and  then  he'd  go  broke, 
and  disappear  down  the  French  River  about  the  date 
his  notes  fell  due;  lie  low  a  while;  flash  back  un- 
heralded; clean  up  his  financial  slate  and  start  some- 
thing. Bully-Bill,  his  faithful  henchman,  helped  him 
spend  the  money  and  drink  the  rye,  and  fluctuated 
with  him  like  a  changing  tide. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Spring  had  done  her  worst  and  left  it  at  that. 
Washouts  ceased  from  troubling,  and  the  roads  firmed 
—  Cobalt  took  on  a  new  lease  of  life. 

Prospectors  poured  in,  bought  supplies,  selected 
canoes,  packed  their  dunnage,  and  were  swallowed 
by  the  back  country.  Talk  on  the  Doc's  porch  ran 
over  with  rich  veins,  lucky  strikes  or  new  flotations. 

Every  man  in  the  Mess  that  year  either  went  out 
himself  or  had  somebody  grub-staked. 

Sol  Graham,  of  course,  couldn't  leave  the  Kirk- 
land  ;  and  Charley  Ross  was  in  the  same  predicament 
with  his  place  —  doing  all  his  prospecting  right  there. 
He  doubled  his  gangs  and  drove  ahead  like  mad,  but 
rumor  had  it  the  Victoria  would  peter  out. 

For  six  months  or  more  my  goldman  had  kept  me 
guessing.  At  the  opera  he  acted  as  if  he  might  be 
soft,  and  I  put  him  down  for  a  hand-holder;  but  up 
here  there  were  no  signs  of  kidding.  Not  that  I 
wanted  it,  mind  you,  spooning  never  was  my  style 
even  before  I  grafted  Henri,  only  the  change  got  me 
going.  Was  he  afraid  I  would  take  advantage  — 
or  was  his  attitude  just  the  difference  between  a  man's 
work  and  his  play?  I  asked  him  once  if  he  thought 
the  girl  of  the  Silver  North  gang  as  true  as  that  Goldy 
Girl,  and  he  snatched  my  hand  and  started  to  speak. 
I  don't  know  what  switched  him  off.  In  the  end  he 
merely  pinched  my  elbow,  and  said  I  was  a  good 

67 


68  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

card  player.  We  never  pursued  the  subject  —  Henri 
had  had  enough. 

Between  not  seeing  anything  of  Ross  and  thinking 
so  much  about  him,  I  worked  up  a  real  heart  interest ; 
and  I  was  awfully  pleased  when  he  tethered  Barnum 
to  the  Doc's  post  one  bright,  hot  noon;  and  asked 
for  it  cold.' 

"  You're  a  sight  for  sore  eyes !  "  I  cried.  "  Where 
was?" 

Jake  Smith,  sitting  alongside,  with  his  hat  tilted 
forward  about  as  far  as  his  chair  was  tilted  back,  and 
spurred  heels  dangling  like  a  lisping  child's,  grunted 
welcome. 

"  Been  working  and  neglecting  business,"  Ross 
said,  kind  of  bitter.  "  Missed  the  Rock  Queen  rise 

—  haven't  heard  any  news  for  a  month !  " 

"  Good  things  going  and  us  not  abroad.  Tish ! 
There's  wood  in  the  woodpile." 

11  Musson's  canned  me,"  he  croaked.  That  was 
his  dandy  foreman,  and  a  big  loss.  "  Gone  prospect- 
ing on  his  own.  I  saw  the  '  Terrier '  in  town  — 
wonder  he's  not  out  after  it.  Season's  well  advanced 

—  what's  doing?"     I  caught  him  glancing  my  way. 
"  Lots  around  here,"  said  the  Doc  with  a  wink. 

"  Poetry." 

"  Quit  talking  through  your  hat,"  growled  Jake. 

Charley  sat  sizing  me  up  rather  keen.  And  I 
actually  blushed,  making  it  look-  as  if  "the  fat  was  in 
the  fire. 

"  Gospel  truth,"  I  affirmed  hastily.  "  Terry  has 
been  throwing  off  verses  —  high  brow  quality. 
Makes  you  cow  boys  bulk  about  thirty  cents."  We  all 
laughed. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  69 

"  Terry's  passing  the  time  of  day  with  you, 
youngster."  Jake  spoke  as  he  willed.  He  was 
notorious  for  taking  liberties  and  living  up  to  them. 
"  The  boy's  under  contract  to  Bagster  regarding 
those  Lelland  claims,  and  he's  got  to  hang  around 
with  nothing  particular  to  do." 

"  Lelland ! "  exclaimed  Ross,  pricking  his  ears. 
"What's  new?" 

Bagster,  a  hard-shell  promoter  and  financier,  and  a 
grabber  from  the  word  go,  had  made,  to  date,  by  far 
the  biggest  clean-up  in  Cobalt;  things  he  was  in- 
terested in  were  good.  The  Lelland  was  generally 
known  to  show  two  enormous  veins  lying  open  to  the 
sunshine.  All  one  had  to  do  was  to  go  and  gather 
the  stuff  in.  This  plum,  however,  had  fallen  away 
at  the  back  of  beyond,  and  lay  fast  locked  in  unbroken 
wilderness.  Very  few  of  those  who  raved  about  its 
wealth  had  ever  set  foot  on  its  precious  mud,  or 
passed  within  miles  of  it. 

Jake  continued  to  rumble  information,  and  we  all 
listened,  take  it  from  me ! 

"  Fault  in  the  title  —  going  to  be  thrown  open  one 
of  these  days  —  then  watch  the  rush." 

"  Damn !  I  never  knew  it !  —  Might  as  well  be 
dead  as  out  of  touch." 

We  jumped,  every  one,  and  turned  amazed  eyes  on 
Ross.  Always  careful  of  his  speech  —  before  ladies 
—  he  was  now  fighting  mad,  as  I  had  never  seen  him 
yet.  The  doctor  began  to  talk  quietly,  rubbing  his 
glasses. 

"  That  will  be  the  biggest  haul  of  the  year,  easily. 
Bagster  had  an  option  on  the  property  at  two  millions, 
before  he  got  wind  of  the  trouble.  He  allowed  it  to 


70  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

lapse.  I  only  wish  I  was  an  engineer  and  pioneer 
like  the  rest  of  you  —  it's  a  great  opportunity." 

"  You  stand  as  good  a  chance  of  winning,  Doc,  as 
any  of  us.  Bagster  has  the  Terrier  tied  up  in  some 
sort  of  financial  scrape,  hard  and  fast,  and  with  the 
Terrier  and  Bully  paddling  no  one  can  beat  him. 
Knowing  the  country  so  well,  they  will  be  in  and 
stake  the  claim  and  out  to  register  it,  before  the  others 
are  half  way  there — Bagster  saves  his  two  million, 
all  right." 

"  Not  so  fast,"  says  Ross,  quietly.  "  The  claim 
will  be  open.  A  man  might  camp — " 

Jake  shoved  back  his  hat,  thrust  forth  an  aggres- 
sive chin,  and  settled  the  chair  legs  with  a  resounding 
whack. 

"  How  in  hell  are  ye  going  to  know  the  date,  if  ye 
camp?  There  being  no  mortal  means  of  communica- 
tion with  that  claim  except  by  water,  the  man  who's 
fastest  with  the  paddles  gets  the  mine." 

"  Bet  you  ten  to  one  Bagster  don't,"  Charley  re- 
plied, smiling.  "  I'm  going  to  have  a  hard  try  against 
him." 

"  Done,"  cried  Jake.     "  What  in?  " 

"  Hundreds." 

Ross  unfolded  from  the  lower  step  and  walked  over 
to  Barnum.  "  Got  to  get  busy,"  he  sang  out. 

I  watched  his  eyes.  He  acted  and  looked  like  a 
different  man  —  had  he  an  idea?  All  at  once  Henri 
was  taken  with  one  of  his  yearnings  towards  dear 
old  Ross;  it  made  me  get  up  and  go  over  there,  and 
I  caught  the  bridle  before  he  mounted,  saying: 

"  Walk  a  bit  —  let's  talk.  I  haven't  seen  you  in  a 
dog's  age  —  and  you  rush  away  faster  than  a  rocket." 


As  he  fell  in  beside  me,  I  slipped  an  arm  through  his. 
It  looks  loverlike  enough  in  writing,  but  you  ought 
to  have  viewed  the  place.  A  short  cut  leads  by  the 
doctor's  fence  across  to  the  main  north  road.  There 
is  more  undisturbed  ground  here  than  anywhere  else 
in  the  district,  and  perhaps  an  acreage  of  lush  grass 
lying  along  the  rail  fences.  The  eastward  and  windy 
side  is  planted  in  pine,  so  that  pine  needles  carpeted 
the  road,  while  sapling  birch  trees,  in  full  young  leaf, 
leaned  towards  each  other  on  the  lower  bank,  making 
a  dappled  shade  and  a  semblance  of  privacy  —  just 
the  spot  for  confidences. 

The  Doc  had  been  prophesying  I'd  fall  for  this  lane 
as  soon  as  spring  was  fairly  awake;  and  I  could  see 
him  making  faces  at  Jake,  and  guess  the  form  of  his 
conversation  next  time  we  met.  Ah  —  if  he  had 
only  known. 

"  The  Lelland  is  a  big  chance,"  I  began.  "  Do  you 
really  think  we  can  do  anything?" 

"  We  ?  "  My  quasi-sentimental  companion  almost 
overdid  his  part.  Warmth^  softened  his  voice. 

"  Two  heads  are  better  than  one,"  I  said  quietly, 
for  danger  lay  in  confusing  Henri's  passions  and  mine. 

"  So  she  thinks  she  can  beat  Bagster !  You're  the 
gamest  little  girl  I  ever  met."  His  arm  slid  around 
me.  I  drew  away  —  it  was  no  time  for  twaddle  — 
and  answered,  serious  as  a  judge: 

"  I  have  a  hunch  we  can  win." 

The  big  man  stood  gazing  down  at  me  for  fifty 
seconds;  then,  something  hard  came  over  him.  He 
tossed  his  head  impatiently,  like  a  colt  fresh  haltered. 

"You're  right,  kid  —  the  job  won't  wait.  If  I 
think  up  anything,  I  may  tell  you  —  I'll  let  you  in. 


72  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Be  good.  And,  say  —  keep  an  eye  on  the  Terrier 
for  me." 

He  sprang  to  his  horse  and  galloped  off  down  the 
sun-spattered  road,  leaving  behind  him  a  beautiful 
young  fury,  who  tore  her  hair  at  his  patronage, 
stamped  her  foot  at  sex,  and  ground  her  teeth  with 
determination  to  beat  old  Bagster  —  and  others. 

"  I  may  tell  you."  How  those  words  rankled !  He 
didn't  take  me  seriously  after  all  these  months. 
"  Speculative  enterprises  closed  to  women  " —  put  up 
the  bars.  If  I  thought  of  any  scheme  I  would  be 
obliged  to  tell  him  —  in  order  to  work  it  out. 

Chance  —  opportunity.  Henri's  slogan.  I  was  at 
last  face  to  face  with  the  gigantic  moment  of  my  life. 

"  Keep  cool,  keep  cool,"  I  whispered,  suppressing 
myself  all  the  way  back.  And  once  in  my  room,  and 
the  door  fastened,  I  settled  with  a  perfectly  concen- 
trated mind  to  do  that  terrific  head  stunt. 

I  never  moved  all  through  the  tiresome  white  after- 
noon ;  but  just  sat  staring  inward  —  exerting  every 
mental  faculty  —  thinking  —  thinking. 

Footsteps  came  and  went;  knuckles  rapped  for  en- 
trance and  gave  up;  the  tea  gong  boomed  five  times, 
insisting  on  its  office,  and  hummed  to  silence.  Still  I 
sat  on.  The  boys  began  to  drop  in;  merry  voices 
floated  to  me  through  the  luminous  northern  twilight. 
I  noted  Terry's  among  them,  glad  I  was  not  working 
for  his  personal  defeat.  Then  I  became  detached. 

I  was  aroused.  Scraping  feet  and  chair  legs  fore- 
told the  mood  downstairs ;  the  game  began  —  and 
silence  fell. 

Dumb  and  inactive  my  body  rocked  to  and  fro,  and 
my  mind  kept  company,  creaking  the  old  boards  but 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  73 

never  striking  a  new  note.  Waterways  and  paddles, 
waterways  and  paddles,  lakes  and  rivers  and  canoes  — 
by  what  other  means  could  one  dare  to  hope  to  pene- 
trate that  vast  unbroken  wilderness? 

Gee!  The  wheels  in  my  head  spun  —  and  all  for 
nothing.  I  trusted  Ross  wasn't  lying  by  for  such  a 
fruitless  effort. 

Silence  —  silence.  Occasionally  a  wrangle  of  voice 
from  below,  but  out  in  the  night  —  silence.  And 
then  —  crash!  The  crash  of  doom. 

Our  house  shivered  in  every  timber,  windows  rat- 
tled, glass  fell  tinkling,  the  furniture  hopped  along  my 
rag  carpet,  the  lamps  swayed  on  their  brackets.  As 
I  ran  out  into  the  hall,  one  banged  downstairs  and  flew 
to  a  thousand  atoms.  The  bunch  were  crowding  in 
the  doorway,  talking  excitedly.  Jake  threw  a  mat 
over  the  burning  oil,  and  somebody  called  loud : 

"  Don't  be  scared !  It's  only  a  big  charge  at  the 
Pontiac  —  night  shift  working.  A  little  too  close  for 
comfort!" 

I  heard  them  shuffle  to  the  sideboard,  for  shock 
loves  stimulant,  and  back  to  their  places. 

"  Deal  the  cards,"  said  the  Doc.  "  I  smell  trouble. 
Let's  have  another  round  before  we're  called." 

"Coming  in,  Clarissa?" 

"  Nope."  But  I  wanted  to  just  the  same.  My 
door  banged,  shutting  out  temptation.  I  might  as 
well  have  sat  in  the  game  —  who  could  think  after 
such  a  hurly-burly!  In  spite  of  determination  my 
wits  went  wool-gathering.  Without  the  least  idea  of 
side-tracking  the  car,  I'd  suddenly  find  myself  at  the 
Victoria.  I'd  shake  myself  and  start  over;  and  five 
minutes  later  would  be  wondering  how  Ross  was 


74  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

getting  on.  The  ticking  clock  accentuated  monotony, 
only  relieved  by  a  dull  roar  once  in  a  while  from  our 
lively  neighbour. 

I  rose  and  paced  the  little  room  fighting  off  stupor. 

"  Clarissa  Kendall,"  said  I,  "  hold  yourself  alert. 
This  is  one  of  the  hours  about  which  literature  is  as 
a  scaffold,  and  play-acting  but  the  bricks  and  mortar. 
This  is  Fate's  tremendous  climax  for  you  —  every- 
thing hangs  in  the  balance.  You  either  win  out  and 
be  something  from  this  time  on  —  or  you  sink  to  the 
level  of  the  scrap  heap  —  perhaps  marry  —  do  and 
become  something  utterly  ordinary.  You've  been  up 
here  since  lunch-time  keeping  a  nice  jog  trot  over 
other  people's  tracks  —  now  get  busy  and  blaze  a  trail. 
We've  got  to  strike  for  ourselves.  We've  got  to  get 
right  away  from  the  water  and  go  inland.  We've 
got  to  manage  to  go  inland  quicker  than  the  boys  can 
paddle  —  we've  got  a  devil  of  a  job,  for  it's  thick 
woods  every  inch  of  the  way.  We've  got  to  — " 

Pontiac  roared  again  heavily,  and  all  at  once  the 
big  idea  up  and  slapped  me  in  the  face  —  biff!  Just 
like  that. 

"  Got  it !  Got  it !  so  help  me !  "  I  cried,  driving 
one  fist  into  the  other  palm.  "  I  own  the  mine  —  I 
own  two  million  dollars'  worth  of  mine  —  I  own  the 
Lelland!" 

And  we  did  own  it  without  possibility  of  failure,  if 
my  plan  went  through  —  but  I  must  have  help. 

A  dash  of  temper,  like  the  bitters  in  a  cocktail, 
makes  life  tasty.  I  thought  of  Ross  and  hated  him. 
But  he  had  been  a  good  pal.  It  was  up  to  me  to  take 
him  in.  I  owed  it  to  him  —  and  I  must  have  help. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  75 

No  longer  cool  —  plumb  intoxicated,  plumb  crazy, 
I  capered  in  my  joy.  Then,  canned  it  sudden,  for  my 
scheme  required  time,  and  every  hour  saved  might 
mean  success.  Shoes  in  hand  I  sneaked  down  past 
the  dining  room  door;  I  fanned  my  fingers  thumb 
to  nose,  and  grinned  my  compliments  at  the  bunch 
playing  their  measly  dollar-limit,  and  flung  a  leg  over 
Pepper  Pot,  Jake's  fiery  young  mare. 

Silent  as  a  pair  of  hold-up  men  we  edged  down 
to  the  short  cut,  and  then,  throwing  caution  to  the 
winds,  shot  out  a  flying  unit  in  the  night. 

Rockefeller'd  sell  the  Standard  Oil  to  feel  a  tenth 
of  our  elation.  Success  sang  in  the  warm  air  stream- 
ing by,  a  heart  light  as  a  feather  challenged  Fate. 
Exultation  burst  forth  in  whoops  of  joy.  If  I'd 
packed  a  gun,  I'd  have  been  shooting  up  the  place. 
Gee!  what  it  means,  that  mood!  Wasting  cartridges 
just  to  hear  it  bark ! 

Whooping  kept  the  nag  to  her  pace  fine,  Jake  having 
known  joy  in  his  day  too.  But  by-and-by  the  roads 
hardened  and  we  slowed  down.  I  wasn't  taking  any 
chances  on  a  horse's  legs  —  particularly  his  horse. 
With  the  slackening  of  our  pace  my  mood  suddenly 
changed.  I  became  keenly  alive  to  some  mysterious 
force  resisting  me.  The  uncanniness  of  it  appalled. 
I  knew  I  was  in  the  center  of  a  great  battle  which  I 
could  neither  see,  nor  hear,  nor  feel.  I  noticed  the 
sky  had  gloomed  up.  Over  my  head  stars  twinkled, 
but  a  wall  of  solid  blackness  rose  like  a  rock  in  front. 

Pepper  put  up  her  nose  and  sniffed  and  whinnied. 
Big  drops  splashed  on  my  hands.  We  were  in  for  a 
storm,  sure,  but  I  reckoned  a  horse  was  neither  sugar 


76  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

nor  salt  and  urged  her  forward.  She  cowered.  The 
darkness  held  a  menace  for  horseflesh  too.  I  felt  my 
hand  on  the  rein  shaking. 

A  bolt  of  lightning  fell  through  the  sky  straight 
to  earth.  It  cut  the  night  like  a  band  of  bright  ribbon, 
and  turned  blackness  into  tawny  yellow.  Some 
storm!  Another  bolt  fell,  and  another  and  another. 
Lightning  rained  from  heaven.  It  didn't  seem  pos- 
sible that  they  were  falling  harmlessly  into  the  great 
wilderness  separating  the  Lelland  from  Cobalt.  With 
the  first  of  the  shocks  my  companion  planted  her  feet 
firmly,  and  refused  to  budge.  I  got  down,  tugging 
on  the  bridle,  but  it  was  no  use;  she  stood  as  firmly 
fixed  as  a  bronze  statue.  Jake's  horse  taking  on  so 
about  a  rain  shower!  I  flecked  her  with  the  whip  till 
she  whinnied. 

So  far  there  had  been  no  sound,  now  the  thunder 
struck  us  peal  after  peal.  It  roared  around  us.  A 
battery  of  great  guns  seemed  to  be  stationed  in  every 
quarter  of  the  compass.  The  power  of  the  storm 
shook  the  rocks  on  which  we  stood.  Quite  suddenly 
I  was  overcome  by  a  terrific  nausea.  I  felt  as  if  I 
were  fighting  against  horrible  odds  in  a  losing  fight. 
I  couldn't  get  my  breath  right.  I  couldn't  think,  it 
was  as  if  Nature  had  withdrawn  her  support.  And 
then  I  knew  that  Nature  must  be  against  me,  even  as 
I  was  against  Nature.  I  saw  Henri  de  Grasse  and 
Clarissa  Kendall,  two  souls  in  a  single  body,  as  a  ter- 
rible blot  on  the  order  of  things,  a  blasphemy  against 
every  natural  law. 

I  felt  I  was  cursed.  I  was  in  a  worse  plight  than 
Cain's.  I  had  not  unnaturally  killed  my  brother,  but 
I  had  unnaturally  made  him  live.  Even  in  the  animal 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  77 

shivering  at  my  side  I  found  evidence  of  the 
monstrous  iniquity. 

"  You  will  never  prosper,"  voices  of  the  storm  sang. 
"  We  are  against  you.  Beware ! "  My  heart  sank 
into  my  boots;  animal  fear  communicated  itself  to  me. 
I  leaned  against  the  horse  and  shook,  and  the  more 
I  shook  the  more  she  shook.  We  shivered  there  to- 
gether, my  face  hidden  in  her  neck,  while  the  bolts 
continued  to  split  the  north,  turning  banked  clouds 
into  a  tawny  daylight. 

A  sharp  noise  pierced  the  roll  of  thunder,  the  rattle 
of  hailstones  on  bush.  We  stood  in  the  open  and  the 
stones  flung  themselves  against  us,  yet  they  were  less 
real  than  the  facts  hurling  through  my  chaotic  senses. 
"  You  are  against  Nature  —  and  Nature  is  against 
you  —  Look  out!  "  I  groped  in  black  terror,  but  had 
never  an  idea  of  giving  up.  When  the  storm  had 
emptied  its  wicked  heart,  and  slid  away  to  the  south- 
west, I  remounted  Pepper,  and  we  proceeded  wearily 
to  the  Victoria. 

The  bunk  houses  sheltering  Charley's  wops  lined 
the  road,  and  I  didn't  fancy  riding  between  them, 
so  I  tethered  my  pony,  and  cut  across  to  the  office 
where  Ross  lived.  A  glance  in  at  one  of  the  windows 
gave  me  his  whole  situation.  He  sat  at  a  table  cov- 
ered with  section  maps,  his  head  sunk  in  his  hands. 
The  slope  of  his  shoulders  —  that  tired  look  —  put 
me  wise  to  his  being  broke.  Things  looked  worse 
than  gossip  represented  them.  I  guessed  Charley 
was  keeping  a  stiff  upper  lip.  Mines  aren't  much  on 
accommodation  and  discomfort's  hell  when  one's 
down  and  out.  His  bunk  wasn't  made  up  —  looked 
as  if  it  hadn't  been  since  Musson  left.  Wearing  ap- 


78  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

parel  lay  about,  muddy  boots  had  been  kicked  off  and 
let  lie  anyhow.  Dinner,  untouched,  sat  on  the  back 
of  the  stove,  while  a  coffee  pot  kept  company  with  the 
lamp  and  maps.  I  saw  at  once  Ross  was  one  of  those 
nice  burly  man-children,  who  never  grow  up  and  are 
utterly  incapable  of  taking  care  of  themselves. 

While  I  watched,  he  straightened  out  his  long  legs, 
rammed  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  and  glowered 
at  the  floor.  He  looked  all  in  —  despondent  to  the 
verge  of  suicide;  so  I  beat  it  'round  to  the  front  and 
banged  a  regular  salvo  for  admittance. 

Charley,  standing,  filled  the  whole  opening;  and 
surprise  —  there  isn't  a  star  in  the  film  world  could 
match  his  face. 

"  I've  got  it !  The  Lelland's  ours !  "  I  cried,  and, 
not  waiting  for  a  welcome,  pushed  inside. 

He  blinked  owlishly.  "  Clarissa  Kendall !  At  this 
time  —  what's  up  ?  " 

"  Bagster's  up  the  spout." 

He  didn't  seem  to  hear,  and,  now  the  moment  had 
come,  I  was  trembling.  My  plan  bubbled  out  topsy- 
turvy. 

"  We'll  need  men  and  dynamite  —  lots  of  it.  The 
charges  must  be  awful  big  —  a  dozen  camps  won't 
give  you  the  right  start."  Words  tumbled  out  faster 
and  faster,  till  I  saw  him  register  the  "  are-you-mad  " 
expression;  and  I  flopped  into  a  chair  to  recover 
breath. 

"Wake  up,  man!  I'm  onto  it  —  do  you  hear? 
The  Lelland's  ours."  Damnation!  he  was  going  to  be 
polite  and  fatherly. 

"  I'm  not  drunk !  "  I  yelled,  and  then,  mastering 
emotion,  tried  another  line. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  79 

"  This  is  a  deal  between  you  and  me  —  is  it  fifty- 
fifty  ?  Do  you  want  to  come  in  —  or  shall  I  carry  my 
idea  elsewhere  ?  There's  not  an  hour  to  lose  —  take 
it  or  leave  it."  That  stung.  Make  any  human  being 
mad,  and  it's  serious  at  once. 

I  pounded  my  fists  on  the  table. 

"  Listen  —  There's  only  one  thing  will  travel 
through  this  country  faster  than  the  Terrier  and  Bully- 
Bill  in  a  light  canoe  —  and  that  is  sound.  We  are  go- 
ing to  signal  the  news  in." 

He  got  me.  I  never  saw  a  man  so  flabbergasted. 
For  long  seconds  he  stood  staring  as  though  without  a 
ray  of  intelligence,  but  all  the  while  his  brain  was  mak- 
ing lightning  dashes,  hither  and  thither,  through  the 
Canadian  bush.  He  turned.  Feverish  shuffling  of 
the  maps  and  hurried  calculations  convinced  him  of  the 
scheme's  workability ;  and  then  the  giant  sought  for  me 
with  bloodshot  eyes. 

"  Girl !  "  he  cried.     "  We're  made !     Shake  on  it." 

I  guess  I  was  more  pleased  at  being  treated  like  a 
real  man  partner,  than  over  any  amount  of  palaver. 

We  sat  down  on  opposite  sides  of  the  table  and 
worked  out  details;  and,  when  all  was  ready,  Ross 
strode  to  the  door,  flung  it  open,  and  bellowed  into  the 
night.  Night  —  did  I  say?  It  was  cold  gray  morn- 
ing. 

"Hi,  there,  boys!     Shorty  —  Green,  hi!" 

A  whisk  of  wind  scampering  around  the  corner 
tossed  his  great  voice  across  the  clearing.  And  while 
we  waited  for  signs  of  life,  I  did  a  little  calculating  on 
my  own. 

From  the  moment  we  heard  of  the  fault  in  title  de 
Grasse  had  been  rampant.  I  thought  like  de  Grasse, 


80  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

acted  like  him,  was  de  Grasse  in  fact  —  pushing  the 
woman  part  clean  aside.  Now  she  came  bobbing  up 
to  complicate  matters  —  morning  light  always  gets  a 
woman  whose  been  at  large  in  the  dark.  I  wanted 
to  bring  the  matter  before  Ross  nicely. 

"  Jake's  lost  his  horse,"  I  said.  "  And  it  looks  to 
me  as  if  I  might  be  going  to  loosen  up  a  bit  on  char- 
acter. Do  you  think  Miss  Clarissa  had  better  slide 
before  the  men  reach  here?" 

"  Too  late  now,"  he  replied.  "  Seeing  you  leave 
would  start  a  lot  more  questions  than  finding  you  in 
camp.  I  should  have  sent  you  home." 

"  Let  be,"  I  jollied,  hating  to  spoil  our  triumph  by 
worry.  "  With  a  million  dollars,  I'll  not  miss  it  any." 

Already  we  caught  the  tramp  of  hob-nailed  boots, 
and  the  hands  came  trooping  in. 

"  You're  all  leaving  here  within  the  hour,"  ordered 
Ross.  "  Get  the  canoes  afloat,  load  dynamite  to  capac- 
ity, and  grub-stake  yourselves  for  ten  days." 

He  signed  that  some  of  the  older  men  should  re- 
main, and  spieled  it  to  them  in  a  few  words. 

"  Look  here !  "  indicating  the  maps.  "  We'll  lay  a 
charge  at  Halsy's  Wharf,  another  by  Fisher  Creek. 
One  at  the  bend  will  carry  beyond  the  reserve,  and 
from  there  to  Long  Inlet.  We're  not  taking  any 
chances  on  a  contrary  wind.  Lay  them  close  and 
heavy.  Make  the  most  of  the  sound,  boys,  you  know 
how  —  here,  and  here,  and  here.  Two  men  will  stay 
at  each  camp.  Miss  Kendall  is  my  partner  in  this, 
Green,  she'll  pass  the  word  from  town  to  you.  Better 
put  our  first  charge  on  the  portage.  I'll  be  waiting  at 
the  head  of  Duck  Lake  and  beat  the  others  to  it." 


CHAPTER  VII 

Doc  gave  me  a  curtain  lecture,  and  took  my  word 
that  I  had  been  out  all  night  on  most  important  busi- 
ness. And  when  I'd  settled  the  question  of  the  bor- 
rowed horse  with  Jake,  I  lapsed  into  watchful  wait- 
ing. 

Playing  amateur  detective  to  the  Terrier's  progress 
felt  almost  like  a  regular  romance.  A  game  wasn't  a 
game  unless  he  sat  in  it.  I  was  a  hound  on  his  track. 
To  receive  him  early  and  speed  him  late;  ride  with 
him,  dance  with  him,  talk  for  him  became  the  goal  of 
life.  He  came  and  went  as  usual,  and  it  was  surpris- 
ing what  a  variety  of  small  errands  matured  about 
leaving  time,  so  that  Clarissa  went  along. 

Society  was  on  tip-toe  with  excitement,  such  a  rush 
not  having  been  expected  from  one  who  had  always 
maintained  the  happy  balance  of  hail-fellow-well-met 
with  the  entire  outfit.  But  their  New  Yorker  was 
changed.  She  developed  a  passion  for  strong  drinks ; 
some  male  or  other  was  forever  piloting  her  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  soda  tank.  I  spent  hours  hanging  on  to 
the  drug  store  bar,  for  that  was  where  the  round  up 
generally  took  place,  and  gossip  was  always  on  sched- 
ule there  —  if  not  ahead  of  time.  You  could  get  bet- 
ter tips  buying  a  toothbrush  in  Cobalt  than  paying  for 
a  dozen  quarts  in  any  city  joint  —  and  it  was  gossip 
for  mine  those  days. 

Absolute  certainty  lay  in  keeping  the  Terrier  under 

81 


82  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

lock  and  key  —  meaning  strict  supervision  —  so  I  di- 
vorced etiquette,  and  every  time  he  appeared  on  the 
street,  I'd  go  out  and  flag  him. 

"  Making  yourself  too  cheap,  kid,"  growled  Jake. 
"  You're  overdoing  it." 

And  I  was.  By  the  fourth  day  my  quarry  turned 
mouse-shy  —  that  is  how  I  came  to  miss  his  getaway. 

Green  stormed  in  one  morning  white  about  the  gills. 
"  What  in  the  blankety  blank  —  blank  —  blank  — 
blank!  Don't  you  know  O'Shaughnessy  and  Bully 
left  town  yesterday?  " 

My  spine  went  soft  as  a  pail  of  mush.  "  But  the 
claims  aren't  open !  "  I  stammered. 

"  They've  got  something  up  their  sleeve.  There's 
nothing  to  prevent  them  tapping  our  wires,  if  they're 
on.  That  Dan  Toms  is  a  low-down,  yellow-livered 
cuss  —  heaven  help  him  if  I  find  a  leak!  " 

"  Our  signals !  You  don't  mean  they've  got  wise  to 
our  scheme!  They  wouldn't  dare.  Why  we  could 
throw  them  off  with  one  little  false  blast." 

"  And  pitch  ourselves  into  the  ditch  too.  Who's  to 
tip  our  boys  that  we're  raising  the  bets  out  of  malice? 
We  don't  start  no  signals  till  the  claims  are  open." 

My  spirits  tumbled  into  deepest  midnight.  Hope 
lay  down  on  me.  I  was  obsessed  again  by  the  terrific 
sense  of  Nature  in  all  her  power  and  might  being 
arrayed  against  us.  And  when  news  of  the  Lelland 
being  opened  fired  the  town,  I  went  out  to  get  my  nag 
with  a  lead  sinker  in  place  of  my  heart. 

There's  tonic  in  a  gallop  on  a  fine  clear  day,  one's 
pulses  answer  to  the  rhythmic  thudding  of  the  horse's 
hoofs.  We  cut  the  time  to  the  Victoria  pretty  close, 
and  I  managed  a  regular  "  cheer,  oh  "  for  Green  and 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  83 

the  boys.  Our  enthusiasm  mounted  during  the  hasty 
embarking  and  the  straight  bright  course  we  steered  to 
portage.  Gleaming  paddles  dipped  and  carried  for- 
ward shimmering  and  dipped  again ;  and  all  our  breath 
was  in  our  work.  We  were  ahead  of  the  rush  and 
wasted  no  time  before  setting  off  the  fuse. 

Dizzy  thunder  overwhelmed  us.  Lord!  What  a 
charge!  Then  we  stood  tense  in  the  silence  straining 
every  nerve  to  hear,  till  from  far  away  there  sounded 
back  the  ghost  of  an  explosion.  Johnson  and  Foster, 
camped  beyond,  had  got  our  news  and  sped  it.  At  a 
single  crack,  we  were  away  ahead  of  the  game  —  but 
were  we  ?  Nature  was  working  with  us,  she  had  car- 
ried our  signal,  but  we  could  not  code  her.  She 
screamed  her  message  on  the  hilltop  for  all  initiated 
ears  to  understand. 

A  fellow  who  was  holding  down  a  bum  claim  near 
portage  came  over  to  ask  what  all  the  row  was  about, 
and  did  we  think  we  were  blowing  up  a  blooming  for- 
tress, or  only  prospecting  on  government  property? 
He  said  the  Terrier  and  Bully  had  gone  through  a 
couple  of  days  before.  Hustling  they  were,  but  look- 
ing powerful  well  set  up  and  pleased  with  the  universe. 
It  was  his  opinion  nobody  had  a  chance  against  them 
two  for  the  Lelland. 

Green  and  I  avoided  each  other's  eyes.  We  were 
mortally  certain  now  tj^at  somebody  had  tipped  them 
off.  A  chain  is  no  stronger  than  its  weakest  link  — 
and  it  took  a  lot  of  links  to  reach  into  that  northern 
wilderness.  Still,  Ross  was  ahead,  well  ahead,  if  he 
hadn't  got  into  difficulty  and  had  to  turn  back.  But 
he  was  alone  —  and  the  Terrier  and  Bully  were  awful 
fast  paddlers. 


84  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

The  sickening  sense  of  failure  lay  upon  my  spirits 
like  a  pall.  I  got  out  of  bed  with  it  in  the  morning 
and  covered  myself  with  it  at  night.  And  Nature  did 
her  damnedest.  A  bright  dry  spell  gave  place  to  tear- 
ing winds,  and  the  winds  brought  the  smell  of  scorched 
brush  to  our  very  door  step.  Things  were  doing  up 
North.  I  knew  it  would  take  something  more  than 
trivial  to  turn  Ross  from  his  goal  —  but  a  forest  on 
fire  is  no  child's  toy.  What  is  having  a  start  com- 
pared to  being  out  of  the  woods,  literally?  As  soon  as 
I  finished  worrying  over  the  fire,  a  new  line  started. 
Ross  was  ahead  of  the  game;  he  was  expert  and  care- 
ful, and  had  his  nerve  with  him,  and  he  wasn't  under 
that  mad  pressure  of  haste  that  drives  a  man  beyond 
his  better  judgment  —  as  a  matter  of  fact  he'd  be  giv- 
ing the  Terrier  two  days  more  than  was  coming  to  him. 
Gee!  If  he  didn't  hustle! 

Then  there  was  the  possibility  of  a  blow  on  one  of 
the  wide  lakes,  a  mess  in  the  rapids,  an  upset  with  loss 
of  boat  and  grub,  which  would  mean  striking  for  civ- 
ilization the  sooner  the  better.  I  cursed  our  arrange- 
ment for  the  last  blast,  which  had  necessitated  Ross's 
going  on  alone  —  and  yet  that  last  blast  might  be  the 
straw  to  break  our  rival's  back.  Our  signals  must 
have  travelled  farther  than  the  enemy  could  make  in 
forty-eight  hours.  Barring  accidents  —  barring  acci- 
dents !  But  I  wouldn't  let  myself  build  on  it.  And  we 
had  no  news. 

In  the  blighted  uncertainty  of  those  days  Clarissa 
commenced  to  hanker  for  town;  for  lights  and  noise 
and  people  and  buildings  —  and  for  a  less  strenuous 
life.  Oh,  to  be  lost  in  a  crowd  once  more,  unhonored 
and  unsung  —  and  unobserved.  Cobalt  looked  sud- 


85 

denly  vulgar  and  raw,  compared  to  her  sisters,  a  stupid 
little  busy-body.  I  resented  Jake's  counsel  and  even  the 
Doc's  mild  jokes.  I  refused  to  swap  yarns  with  the 
bunch.  My  mind  was  entirely  full  of  one  adventure 
—  the  end  of  which  was  yet  unwritten.  A  more  thor- 
oughly disagreeable  hotch-potch  of  ill-humor,  nerves, 
uncertainty  and  expectation  couldn't  have  been  found 
to  dine  at  anybody's  table.  I  marvel  Doc  didn't  throw 
me  out  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck. 

And  all  the  while  I  was  rude  to  them,  I  was  cogitat- 
ing in  the  bottom  of  my  brain  pan,  that  maybe  I'd  dig 
out  —  if  Ross  got  back  safe. 

He  did  get  back  safe  —  and  first.  He  beat  the  Ter- 
rier to  it  by  an  hour  and  a  half.  He'd  just  finished  his 
job  and  was  enjoying  a  pipe  preparatory  to  starting 
home,  and  chuckling  to  think  how  much  time  he  had 
on  the  rest,  when  the  two  showed  up.  It's  lucky  for 
him  it  was  Terry,  any  couple  of  ordinary  roughhouse 
prospectors  would  have  murdered  him  on  the  spot,  or 
have  done  him  dirt  in  some  way.  But  O'Shaughnessy 
was  born  a  gentleman,  and  he  stood  for  fair  play  all 
along  the  line.  Bully  told  how  they  hung  on  Ross's 
trail  every  mile  of  the  way  back,  hoping  he'd  come  a 
cropper.  But  he  picked  up  his  own  boys  at  the  first 
camp,  and  a  couple  more  farther  down.  By  the  time 
they  reached  Portage  there  was  a  regular  army  of 
them  ready  to  defend  our  man  and  our  rights  against 
all  comers. 

Immediately  on  registering  the  claims  Ross  an- 
nounced my  partnership;  and  I'll  own  I  was  tickled 
to  death  to  find  him  giving  me  full  credit  for  the  idea. 
Our  crowd  could  hardly  believe  their  ears.  They  did 
the  handsome  thing  by  me.  We  celebrated  long  and 


86  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

broad  and  wide;  and  of  course  Henri,  being  beyond  the 
grasp  of  their  practical  minds,  girlie  had  to  stand  up 
and  take  the  salutes.  But  de  Grasse  proved  right 
again  —  it's  safer  not  -to  attract  too  much  attention. 
After  the  pow-wow  those  boys  began  to  fall  away, 
scared  I  think.  Men  don't  like  women  who  are  ca- 
pable of  beating  them.  I  soon  understood  the  Lelland 
business  had  cooked  my  goose  with  the  bunch.  Some 
of  the  old  hands  had  grown  grouchy,  while  I  appeared 
to  be  so  mad  about  the  Terrier;  and  now  they  saw 
through  that  game  they  turned  scornful  as  well  as 
peeved  —  didn't  take  any  stock  in  it  or  me.  Terry 
himself  wasn't  struck  on  being  a  loser,  so  he  made 
tracks  for  the  bush,  quick. 

But  the  most  startling  part  of  the  change  sprang 
from  my  turning  into  a  capitalist.  Ross  sold  the  claim 
straight  to  Bagster  for  over  two  millions,  and  plunked 
down  fifty  per  cent,  like  a  white  man.  I  was  rich  — 
enormously  rich  —  rich  beyond  my  wildest  dreams. 
Dollars  burnt  my  pockets;  I  pined  for  the  open  and 
limitless  spending  ground  of  Broadway  and  Fifth  Ave- 
nue. Moreover,  it  wasn't  any  fun  to  be  in  Cobalt  and 
not  ring  in  with  the  right  crowd.  One  by  one,  as  my 
steadies  dropped  from  the  lists,  new  blood  rushed  in ; 
and  the  weight  of  Success  again  blighted  my  innocent 
enjoyment.  I  had  to  keep  a  hold  on  the  dough  now  — 
it  was  up  to  me  to  look  out  for  sharks  in  the  swimming 
pool.  Men  I  had  never  known  came  up  and  gave  me 
the  glad  hand  like  they'd  been  intimates  all  our  lives. 
Speculators  strove  to  cultivate  me  —  I  was  bored.  It 
seemed  as  if  every  heavy  champion  in  the  countryside 
made  an  excuse  to  stop  at  Doc's. 

"  Octopuses,"   Jake   called   them.     "  They're  after 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  87 

you,  girl.  Scutter  and  leave  him  to  me,"  he'd 
croak  from  under  his  broad  brim,  when  we  saw  a 
stranger  coming.  By-and-by  I  fled  the  veranda  al- 
together; the  drugstore  and  the  main  street  knew  my 
face  no  longer;  a  chill  began  to  creep  over  our  evening 
game. 

No  complaints,  mind  you,  I'm  only  telling  how  it 
was.  After  all  we'd  glammed  in  the  north  what  we 
set  out  for,  and  I  guess  when  you've  got  yours  its 
pretty  generally  always  time  to  quit. 

Ross  came  around  a  lot  to  make  up  for  the  cold  shoul- 
der. Things  began  to  look  as  if  he  was  more  than  on 
the  inside;  and  remarks  could  be  winged  frequently 
about  his  paying  over  a  million  sans  struggle,  because 
he  was  so  jolly  sure  of  getting  it  back  with  interest. 
It  being  none  of  the  town's  business,  we  kept  right  on 
going  together.  I  liked  him  and  he  liked  me;  we'd 
been  first  rate  pals,  and  we'd  brought  off  something 
big,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  which  creates  about  the  nice- 
est  kind  of  tie  and  relationship.  I  never  gave  his  side 
a  serious  thought,  till  one  evening  down  in  the  short 
cut. 

I  was  dressed  up  and  I  had  to  hold  my  skirts  with 
both  hands,  the  road  being  squashy  along  those  fields. 
The  night  was  sweet.  Watching  from  Doc's  stoop, 
moon  and  trees  and  sky  had  rested  as  still  as  death,  but 
a  tiny  breeze  blowing  there  by  the  river  whisked  a  lock 
across  my  face.  It  was  maddening.  I  shook  my 
head  and  flopped  the  hair  back,  and  blew  upward,  and 
each  time  the  lock  floated  over  again.  Soon,  I  was 
tossing  like  a  cow  in  a  pasture  full  of  green  flies.  Ex- 
asperated beyond  enduring  the  pesky  thing  I  turned  to 
Ross: 


88  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"Just  tuck  the  hair  back,  will  you,  please?  It's 
worse  than  a  New  Jersey  mosquito !  " 

Who'd  ever  have  thought  a  nose  tickle  could  lead 
to  sentiment! 

He  raised  his  hand,  glanced  at  it  and  hesitated,  as 
though  his  servant  were  going  into  action  over  some- 
thing high  and  holy,  and  wasn't,  perhaps,  quite  fit  for 
office.  And  then  he  fixed  me  up  Ai.  But  I  knew  by 
his  hesitation  that  I'd  started  trouble.  A  man  don't 
hold  off  about  touching  a  girl,  unless  he  cares  for  her, 
and  means  to  get  her  where  the  other  fellows  will  have 
to  hold  off  for  keeps. 

We  travelled  a  bit  and  leaned  on  a  barred  gate  ad- 
miring the  palish  landscape ;  there  he  snatched  an  occa- 
sion to  sail  right  in.  He  told  me  he  was  stony-broke 
at  the  Victoria  —  stony  flat-broke  —  not  knowing  how 
to  pay  the  men,  hardly,  and  almost  in  despair,  when  I 
came  along  and  gave  him  the  big  idea.  "  Gave  it  to 
me,"  were  the  words  he  emphasized. 

Of  course,  being  a  man  and  having  got  something, 
he  wanted  a  whole  lot  more.  He  wouldn't  ask  me 
while  he  was  broke,  he  said ;  which  explains  his  shying 
off  once  or  twice,  but  now  things  looked  different. 

I  kind  of  wanted  to  stay  up  there  and  marry  Ross. 
You  see  I  was  plumb  scared  —  afraid  of  my  own  luck 
—  and  he  shone  a  fixed  star  in  a  fluxing  firmament. 
He  was  so  manly  and  big  and  safe.  I  discounted 
town-tattle,  knowing  he  had  enough  for  himself  and 
brains  to  make  good  on  the  start;  probably  his  half  of 
the  fortune  would  spell  ten  times,  when  mine  had 
dwindled  to  a  fraction.  I  felt  pitifully  small  com- 
pared to  the  money  —  and  the  blood-suckers'  interest 
in  the  money  —  experiencing  how  it  had  upset  my 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  89 

apple  cart  with  the  boys  made  me  timid;  but  it  wasn't 
the  business  end  I  was  thinking  of  so  much  then,  as  his 
needing  me  round  to  sort  up  that  shack.  However, 
what's  the  use?  Henri  would  have  none  of  it. 

Things  looked  different,  as  Ross  said;  that's  where 
the  rub  came.  They  looked  different  to  Henri  also. 
He  was  crazy  to  get  out  and  play  with  my  bank  bal- 
ance. I  was  overwhelmed  in  a  new  and  personal  sense 
by  the  idea  of  being  against  Nature.  In  a  flash  I  un- 
derstood these  weeks  of  restlessness  —  I  realized  I  had 
no  choice  but  Manhattan. 

Charley  took  this  medicine  like  a  man  —  there  was 
no  apparent  need  to  feel  weepy  —  after  all  he  wasn't 
a  loser  on  my  account.  We  had  made  him  a  present  of 
a  cool  million. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  first  thing  I  did  when  I  reached  "  little  old  New 
York,"  and  had  put  up  on  the  level  at  the  Ritz,  was  to 
strike  for  Bain  &  Dingley's  lingerie  department,  and 
buy  about  half  the  stock  I  used  to  spend  so  much  of 
my  time  selling. 

I  piled  the  choicest  confections  into  a  taxi  and  took 
them  right  home  —  some  class  to  being  at  home  in  the 
palm  parlors!  And  after  wallowing  in  hot  water, 
which  was  a  treat  too,  Doc's  joint  having  sold  short 
on  baths  and  not  having  covered,  I  spent  a  whole  day 
slipping  those  lush  garments  off  and  on,  and  admiring 
myself  in  ribbony,  lacy,  delicious,  delicate  icy-creamy 
finery.  Wasn't  I  the  doll !  But  say !  The  cash  I  ran 
through  fairly  made  my  eyes  water. 

Gold  doesn't  have  a  chance  to  burn  one's  pockets 
long  in  a  metropolis.  It  burns  too  hot.  That  quaint, 
peculiar  odor  folks  associate  with  London  they  will  say 
is  fog  —  Lummy!  It's  the  smell  of  scorching  cloth; 
and  we've  got  the  same  here  attributed  to  other  causes. 
Getting  together  a  wardrobe  didn't  occupy  a  week ;  and 
presently  I  began  to  sup  the  bitter  dregs  of  idleness.  I 
hadn't  a  thing  to  do  —  no  place  to  go  but  out,  nothing 
to  wear  but  clothes.  It's  right  lonely  and  a  trifle  cold 
sitting  on  top  of  a  million  plunks,  unless  one  knows  the 
signals  for  the  other  people  in  the  same  altitude  and  my 
list  of  acquaintances  ranged  chiefly  in  Bain  &  Ding- 
ley's,  which  Henri  had  scored  off. 

90 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  91 

During  the  third  week  my  spirits  ran  so  low  I  hiked 
down  to  see  old  Buniva.  Of  course  I'd  paid  her  the 
board  money  and  sent  her  an  extra  ten  to  sweeten  her 
dinner  of  herbs,  so  she  rushed  at  me  in  really  embar- 
rassing joy;  talked  volubly  of  a  full  house  and  an  easy 
pocket ;  and  regretted  she  couldn't  let  me  have  my  old 
room.  Gee !  I  showered  her  with  questions  trying  to 
find  out  if  Jacobs  had  made  any  attempt  to  nab  me. 
And  thinking  about  him  and  all  the  shady  business 
gave  me  a  notion  to  hunt  up  Howard  Griggs. 

The  ghost  of  my  last  appearance  might  be  laid. 
Nobody  would  suspect  a  young  lady  domiciled  at  the 
Ritz  Carlton,  and  paying  her  bills  regularly,  of  such  a 
crime  as  a  petty  theft.  I  wondered  how  Griggsy  had 
squared  it  with  the  owner  of  the  sniff  bottle,  and 
determined,  if  he  was  on  this  side  of  the  pond,  to 
learn  without  delay. 

His  club  acknowledged  him  within  hail,  so  I  beat 
it  to  the  unconscious  fence  and  gathered  in  my  wares. 
Sight  of  Ross's  nugget  glued  me  all  up  with  senti- 
ment, but  by  the  evening  I  had  recovered  sufficiently 
to  compile  a  neatly  worded  note  apologizing  for  having 
carried  away  Miss  Swanhill's  belonging,  packed 
among  my  things  by  mistake,  and  asking  him  to  tea 
next  day. 

For  all  the  world  like  Henri  and  me  at  work  in  the 
old  quarters!  It  gaye  us  quite  a  little  fillip  toward 
adventure. 

At  our  last  meeting  Griggs  had  played  up  fine,  and 
we  counted  on  him  as  a  good  scout.  I  didn't  for  a 
minute  fancy  his  hounds  had  been  nosing  my  track; 
but  nevertheless  I  knew  there  was  going  to  be  a  large 
slice  of  explanation  served  with  our  little  party. 


92  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Now  that  appearances  didn't  cut  much  ice ;  when  we 
weren't  wanting  to  interest  Howard  particularly,  or  to 
exploit  his  interests ;  and  I  could  don  one  choice  dress 
or  five  according  to  my  whim,  getting  ready  wasn't 
anything  like  the  same  pure  joy.  I  wore  a  marvel- 
lous greenery-bluerie,  slimpsy,  net  and  silk  affair, 
with  high  heeled,  conspicuously  buckled  shoes,  rival- 
ling Mrs.  Jacobs's,  and  a  regular  poultice  of  violets  on 
my  front.  An  astonishing  hat  that  had  set  me  back 
three  hundred  bucks  topped  the  bow.  Say,  I  wish 
the  Cobalt  crowd  could  have  seen  me ! 

H.  G.  turned  up  on  time,  as  round  and  pink  and 
kiddish  looking  as  ever,  and  bubbling  enthusiasm.  I 
reckon  nobody  would  have  guessed  his  age  for  what 
it  was,  but  when  one  came  to  know  him  he  had  a 
great  deal  of  savvy,  as  he'd  proved  helping  me  out 
of  that  last  scrape.  And  would  you  believe  it,  he 
acted  so  refined  and  considerate  over  the  subtraction 
of  milady's  bottle,  making  light  of  the  inconvenience, 
and  not  asking  one  question ;  I  was  suddenly  moved  to 
tell  him  all  about  the  opium,  and  cast  hastily  for  an 
excuse  to  be  wearing  a  maid's  uniform. 

In  his  gentlemanly  way  Howard  gave  me  to  under- 
stand he  had  never  entertained  suspicions  not  en- 
tirely complimentary,  and  was  deft  enough  to  furnish 
the  excuse  himself. 

"  I  thought  —  ah  —  you  must  be  a  detective.  A 
female  Sherlock  Holmes,  don't  you  know,  doing  it  for 
fun,  and  all  that.  Girls  go  in  for  such  queer  pas- 
times in  America." 

"  You  disapprove  of  us,  and  yet  you  hang  around," 
I  laughed. 

He  raised  a  downy  pair  of  brows.     "  Spend  nine 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  93 

months  in  New  York!  —  jolly  likely!"  Then  he 
hurried  on,  fearful  lest  he  had  wounded  my  deeper 
sentiment. 

"I've  been  home  since  you  left  —  and  I'm  going 
again.  But  I  have  to  return.  Really,  I  occupy  the 
post  of  watch  dog,  appointed  by  a  troublesome,  de- 
ceased, male  relative.  So  long  as  my  niece  Angelica 
desires  to  remain,  I'm  booked  to  stick  along  and  — 
ah  —  take  care  of  her." 

The  subject  of  Angelica,  probably  a  flapper  in  pig- 
tails and  a  knee  skirt  didn't  interest  me  'specially,  so  I 
waded  into  my  tale. 

Thinking  up  the  old  excitement  and  dragging  it  all 
out  for  our  guest's  inspection  proved  very  upsetting 
to  de  Grasse.  We  had  been  so  completely  and  happily 
occupied  making  a  fortune  in  Cobalt,  he  seemed  to 
have  forgotten  that  awful  woman,  the  winged  snake, 
the  Jacobs  and  their  opium  den.  But  now  his  blood, 
or  rather  mine,  boiled  with  indignant  vexation. 

Henri  started  talking  and  I  couldn't  stop  him  —  I 
was  terribly  afraid  Griggs  would  fancy  Clarissa  had 
been  imbibing  too  freely,  particularly  at  the  snake 
part.  But  he,  being  a  crank  on  hypnotism,  agreed 
with  every  detail,  and  was  certain  the  symbol,  having 
come  to  me  at  the  time  of  the  murder,  must  be  the 
key  to  the  murderer.  Then  I  gave  Henri  his  head. 
I  suppose  it  is  natural  for  a  man  to  wax  graphic  over 
murder  —  a  murder  in  his  own  family  —  even  if  he 
is  the  corpse. 

Griggs  electrified  me  by  his  keen  spirit.  He  wanted 
to  turn  in  and  help  us  chase  them.  Of  course  it  was 
the  super-physical,  super-mental  brush  of  the  serpent's 
wings  that  drove  him  to  such  thoroughly  un-English 


94  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

lengths,  and  the  chances  are  he'd  get  cold  feet  once 
at  home  again  under  his  valet's  eagle  eye,  but  for  the 
nonce  we  three  were  white  hot  on  the  scent  —  and  we 
did  enjoy  ourselves. 

Howard  sat  forward,  elbows  on  table,  his  hands 
supporting  his  chubby  chin,  and  his  white  spats  en- 
twining the  lower  rung  of  a  gild-edged  chair. 

"  You  said,  at  the  time,  something  about  de  Grasse 
—  bally  funny  —  would  you  —  ah  —  care  to  repeat 
it?" 

"  Sure.  No  objections  to  putting  myself  on  record. 
The  old  party  murdered  de  Grasse  —  I'll  be  sworn  to 
that."  . 

"  But,  I  say !  How  do  you  know  ?  Rummy  thing 
her  hiding  there,  isn't  it?  What  makes  you  think  she 
referred  to  him?  " 

Even  Griggs  could  hardly  be  expected  to  stand 
for  the  real  truth  about  Henri  and  me,  so  I  saw  I'd 
have  to  clam  up  some  on  facts. 

"  I've  got  a  hunch,"  I  said  positively.  "  And,  more- 
over—  now  this  will  astonish  you  —  although  the  old 
woman  was  bandaged  so  that  I  saw  her  upper  face 
first,  and  then  the  lower  part,  and  never  the  whole 
of  it  at  once,  I'd  swear  —  yes,  I'd  almost  swear  she 
was  Lady  Deer  ing." 

Astonish  him !  Heavens !  My  shot  took  effect 
like  a  gas  bomb.  The  boy  sat  back  stunned,  grinning 
at  me  with  fixed  eye-balls  and  a  dropped  jaw.  He'd 
gone  limp  all  up  and  down  his  spine,  so  I  ordered 
brandy,  and  babbled  nothings  till  he  got  his  second 
wind. 

"  Ah  —  ah  —  impossible,  quite  impossible  — "  he 
floundered.  And  taking  himself  in  hand.  "  Jove, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  9$ 

you  know,  it  can't  be  —  Lady  Deering  is  my  niece." 

My  turn  on  the  high  trapeze.  "  Niece !  "  I  cried. 
"  Niece!  Why  she's  more  than  old  enough  to  be  your 
mother !  " 

He  drained  the  brandy  glass,  round-eyed  still  in 
amazement,  and  gasped  out  bits  of  their  family  his- 
tory for  my  enlightenment. 

"Corking  situation  —  eh?  Second  marriages  — 
youngest  sons,  and  all  that  —  happens  in  the  best  of 
families.  Old  lady  handed  over  to  me  as  a  ward  till 
1920  —  no  ages  mentioned  in  the  will  —  only  dates. 
Crazy  old  Indian  beggar,  mad  on  dates.  Got  to  put 
up  with  it  or  go  into  chancery.  I  —  ah  — 'I  can 
assure  you  that  Lady  Deering  is  perfectly  respect- 
able." 

We  roared  with  laughter,  while  confusion  painted 
me  tomato  red,  and  Henri,  blandly  smiling,  thought 
his  own  thoughts. 

To  squelch  Henri,  and  extricate  myself  from  the 
social  mess,  I  began  to  tell  how  the  snake  sign  had 
been  bothering  me  since  my  return  to  New  York. 
Griggs  was  immensely  interested,  and  wanted  me  to 
spiel  it  before  some  of  his  high-brows  on  spiritualism 
—  suggested  arranging  an  interview  with  Angelica. 
But  there  Henri  refused  point-blank. 

"  The  funny  thing  is,"  I  continued,  "  that  hiero- 
glyphic used  to  pop  in  and  away  just  by  itself,  now  I 
always  see  it  accompanied  by  a  child's  rubber." 

"A  what?" 

"  A  rubber  —  rubbers."  Raising  my  voice  as  if  the 
Englishman  were  deaf  instead  of  dull.  "  Rubbers  — 
the  things  you  put  on  to  keep  from  catching  cold  in 
the  rain." 


96  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Oh  —  galoshes !  Jove,  yes !  A  child's  rubber. 
Top  hole !  A  child's  rubber !  "  he  gurgled. 

"  I'm  serious  though.  Maybe  it's  the  association 
of  place  or — "  I  was  on  the  verge  of  giving  the  whole 
show  away,  but  pulled  up  sudden,  and  added  lamely, 
"  I  haven't  had  enough  amusement,  the  creature  dogs 
my  waking  and  sleeping  hours.  I'm  going  to  take 
a  holiday  and  then  I  shall  do  a  little  detective  work 
later  on." 

"  Hot  stuff !  I  intend,  with  your  permission,  to  help 
you  do  that  detective  work.  I  can't  believe  Angelica 
would  be  associated  with  such  —  persons.  Still,  if 
the  resemblance  was  strong  enough  to  impress  you 
under  such  circumstances,  they  might  be  able  to  make 
some  use  of  it  which  would  —  er,  involve  her  un- 
pleasantly. I  have  to  remind  myself  frequently  that 
Lady  Deering  is,  ah  —  almost  a  public  character." 

"  The  old  woman  at  Jacobs's  was  certainly  the 
spittin'  image  of  the  picture  on  the  front  of  that  pro- 
gramme you  gave  me  —  I  remember  looking  at  it 
while  I  was  packing  and  being  almost  sure  at  the 
time." 

"  It  bears  looking  into  —  but  do  make  it  later.  Too 
bally  warm  for  duty  now,  don't  you  know  ?  Allow  me 
to  introduce  Miss  Swanhill  so  you  can  ascertain  where 
the  house  is.  I  blundered  in  there  and  I'm  sure 
would  never  be  able  to  locate  it  again.  Tea  to-morrow, 
eh,  what?  You  and  Miss  Erma  and  Beaty  Swan- 
hill  —  a  party  of  four  —  we'll  motor  somewhere. 
But  —  ah  —  '  mum's  the  word,'  as  your  delightful  lan- 
guage says,  mum's  the  word  regarding  this  situation. 
Miss  Erma's  tongue  —  jolly  active  —  hung  in  the 


WTTS  AND  THE  WOMAN  97 

middle  and  wags  at  both  ends.  No  confidences  — 
eh,  what?" 

After  weary  weeks  of  splendid  isolation  I  snatched 
his  invitation  like  a  starved  pup  snapping  at  a  bone. 
I  was  agog  with  curiosity  to  meet  his  friends,  too, 
and  it  was  not  until  I  commenced  contemplating  the 
female  of  the  species  that  I  realized  how  little  money 
I'd  spent.  What  price  a  woman's  hats  and  gowns? 
I  didn't  own  an  article  but  clothes  —  not  even  a 
twinkler.  While  she  showed  me  vistas  —  steam 
yachts,  automobiles  and  a  house  or  two. 

"  What's  wrong  with  you,  Henri  ?  "  says  I.  "  Going 
to  sleep  at  the  switch?" 

Buzz-buggies  can't  be  wished  into  a  garage;  so  I 
had  to  ride  with  Howard  in  the  yellow  car.  But  I 
beat  it  to  Tiff's  early  next  morning  and  I  sure  got 
some  covert  notice  for  the  three  gems  I  was  wearing 
padlocked  on  to  my  neck  and  arms. 

Beaty  Swanhill  being  a  broker,  and  me  knowing  so 
little  small  talk,  we  naturally  gassed  about  shares,  and 
profit  and  loss,  and  unearned  increment.  I  admire 
men  who  can  wind  business  like  a  dark  thread  on  the 
shuttle  of  light  conversation,  and  then  carry  forward. 
The  talk  made  me  feel  as  jolly  and  comfortable  as  if  I 
had  still  been  in  the  backwoods,  and  so  we  were  friends 
from  the  start,  he  coming  to  meet  me  about  as  fast 
as  his  gentle  sister  hiked  away. 

Coming  didn't  do  Beaty  any  harm  either.  After 
a  while  I  began  to  loosen  up  on  the  personal  pros- 
pect, and  when  he  discovered  I  was  drawing  merely 
bank  interest  on  over  a  million,  I  thought  he  would 
faint.  Howard  didn't  get  a  look  in  from  that  on. 


98  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Swanhill  held  the  conversation  to  its  course  with  a  high 
hand,  offering  all  sorts  of  advice  on  what  to  buy  — 
railroads  and  good  dividend  payers.  You  see  Henri 
wasn't  strong  on  security,  he  was  all  for  the  make. 
To  lie  low  and  then  slam  our  last  dollar  into  some 
fool  risky  enterprise  would  have  been  his  way,  so 
the  idea  of  a  sound  investment  such  as  steel  preferred 
had  been  itching  me.  But  Wall  Street  is  a  long  way 
down,  and  it  springs  kind  of  mysterious  —  anyway  I 
hadn't  made  up  my  mind. 

Now  it  appeared  if  I  opened  an  account  with 
Silsby,  Banks  and  Swanhill,  I'd  only  have  to  telephone 
once  in  a  while  and  they'd  do  the  heavy  truck  work 
—  a  regular  toy  for  children. 

He  shook  his  head  at  Cobalts  as  mostly  on  the  Curb, 
and  made  them  seem  awfully  out  of  class. 

"  Can  one  buy  rubber  any  place  ?  "  I  asked,  sud- 
denly remembering  the  new  phase  of  my  mascot. 

"  Yes,  rubber  shares  are  quoted  on  the  London  ex- 
change. But  I  wouldn't  advise  it,  Miss  Kendall. 
They're  speculative  —  very  speculative." 

Henri  pricked  up  his  ears  at  that.  "  Suits  me  — 
I  wish  you'd  cable  for  some  to-morrow  —  at  the  mar- 
ket." And  when  I  mentioned  the  amount,  he  nearly 
fell  over  again,  said  I  was  a  high  flyer  and  shook  his 
head  dubiously. 

And  I  had  vainly  fancied  I  would  be  able  to  direct 
Henri's  financial  operations. 

Well,  what's  the  good  of  having  a  hunch  if  you 
don't  play  it  ?  The  winged  snake  had  always  brought 
us  luck. 


CHAPTER  IX 

In  spite  of  Miss  Swanhill's  I-don't-care-to-associate- 
with-you  attitude  I  went  about  with  them  quite  a  lot, 
Beaty  arranging  parties  of  four,  including  me,  and 
after  Griggs  left,  some  gilded  male  of  his  down- 
town acquaintance  so  very  desirable  as  to  overcome 
milady's  aversion. 

With  matrimonial  opportunity  he  bribed  her  to  let 
the  light  of  her  aristocratic  countenance  shine  upon 
his  protegee,  and  I  must  say  he  played  her  fair,  keep- 
ing the  quarry  right  under  her  guns,  and  covering  me 
all  the  time  himself  as  if  I  had  been  an  escaped  crim- 
inal. I  could  have  killed  him  for  it  whiles,  as  I'd 
have  welcomed  a  change,  and  several  of  the  fellows 
he  brought  along  knew  real  business  and  were  far  too 
interesting  to  waste  on  an  evening's  patter.  Then, 
remembering  how  lonesome  I  had  been  before  he  be- 
gan to  hang  round,  I  called  myself  down  sharp  for 
ingratitude,  and  took  amusement  out  in  watching  both 
their  antics  when  some  coveted  plutocrat  got  a  notion 
to  change  loads  himself. 

Although  young  and  prettish,  there  was  something 
unlikeable  about  Erma  —  she  was  too  cold-blooded 
for  humanity,  and  her  nags  showed  signs  of  restless- 
ness rather  frequently.  Once  the  prize  stallion  of 
the  ring  kicked  clean  over  his  traces;  slipped  his  arm 
through  mine  in  a  masterful  way  after  dinner,  and 
walked  me  off,  leaving  the  others  to  follow. 

99 


IOO 

That  was  the  night  we  attended  the  motor  boat 
show,  and  we  had  a  bully  good  time  too,  barring  one 
incident. 

Jim  Gower  wasn't  any  fancy  stock,  but  he  might 
have  tinkled  fifty  million  in  his  pockets  had  the  notion 
struck  him,  and  every  debutante,  let  alone  the  three- 
year-olds  and  over,  was  breathless  in  pursuit.  But, 
the  Lord  love  us!  He  was  the  nimblest  and  coyest 
beast  I  ever  clapped  eyes  on!  I  only  met  him  once 
and  he  played  the  limits  of  discretion  from  eight  to 
twelve-thirty  A.  M.  If  I  had  been  husband  hunting, 
or  if  it  hadn't  been  a  public  place,  he'd  have  got  en- 
gaged sure  —  and  walked  away  from  it  next  after- 
noon, just  as  he  walked  away  from  Erma. 

I  learned  later  that  to  make  an  enveloping  rush, 
get  what  was  coming  to  him  and  flee,  was  the  multi- 
million  grubber's  chief  relaxation.  And  it's  certainly 
rare  fun  so  long  as  neither  side  takes  any  preferred 
stock  in  the  flotation. 

Meandering  up  and  down  the  pathways  in  that  show, 
and  losing  the  Swanhills  around  convenient  corners 
gave  my  man  a  fine  free  chance  to  cut  his  swath. 
We  were  getting  along  like  blood  brothers.  By-and- 
by  we  came  opposite  a  new  model  speedboat,  that 
was  all  dolled  up  with  solid  gold  trimmings,  and  set 
out  there  gloriously  on  a  platform  above  the  heads 
of  the  spectators,  her  red  sides  flaming  like  Chinese 
lacquer  —  some  gaudy  toy!  Of  course  she  had  a  big 
crowd  around  for  every  poor  piker  that  passed  wanted 
to  stand  with  open  mouth,  trying  to  realize  she  had 
more  gold  visible  to  the  naked  eye  than  he'd  earn  in  a 
life-time. 

The  youth  in  charge,  recognizing  Gower,  climbed 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  101 

down  very  respectfully  and  asked  him  if  he  wouldn't 
care  to  step  inside  and  see  the  beauty  at  close  range. 
So  up  we  went,  and  being  on  the  platform  we  got  to 
be  part  of  the  show.  Grower  was  a  show  anyway  with 
his  double  chins,  and  his  prominent  fish-eyes  like  a 
boy's  '  shooters  '  bulging  through  the  flesh,  and  harsh, 
close  cropped,  ink  black  hair  standing  out  all  over 
reminding  me  of  my  favorite  shoe  brush. 

He  offered  to  buy  the  boat  for  me  just  as  she  stood, 
and  I  verily  believe  the  great  mush  would  have  done 
it.  But  land's  sakes,  it  would  have  cost  a  girl  her 
reputation  to  run  the  thing,  even  if  she  held  a  certifi- 
cate guaranteeing  that  she  paid  for  it  with  the  sweat 
of  her  own  brow.  However,  the  suggestion  gave  me 
an  idea. 

I  scouted  'round  pretty  considerable  during  the  next 
few  days  and  in  the  end  laid  down  my  money  for  a 
black  queen.  Spades  she  was — -the  highest  in  the 
deck,  and  I  soon  got  to  priding  myself  on  her  slim 
beauty  and  her  record  breaking  notches,  more  than 
the  maker  did.  Everybody  that  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  Swallow  went  crazy  over  her;  the  chap  I 
got  to  run  her  had  been  working  for  the  firm,  and 
only  came  over  into  private  service,  he  said,  because 
he  couldn't  bear  to  leave  the  boat.  And  I  swallowed 
the  fiction  till  my  gentleman  began  to  show  signs  of 
interest  in  another  quarter. 

Tom  was  a  nice  boy,  working  his  way  through 
college,  and  as  smart  as  they're  made,  and  I  didn't 
turn  him  down  because  of  his  veiled  ambition,  al- 
though we  sometimes  put  in  a  bad  half  hour  when  he 
overstepped  the  mark,  as  on  a  certain  occasion  when 
we  were  out  alone,  just  playing,  ourselves  —  making 


102  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

her  show  her  heels  to  the  wind.  We  were  running 
smooth  as  ball  bearings,  cutting  the  water  sharp,  but 
simply  dreaming  along,  till  suddenly  I  saw  the  nose 
of  a  white  boat  creep  up  on  my  left. 

"  Full  steam ! "  I  yelled,  bracing  myself  for  the 
race.  I  thought  it  was  one  of  the  yacht  club  fleet. 

The  stranger  pulled  even  and  I  took  a  flying  look 
at  her.  She  might  have  been  about  our  own  build, 
appearing  larger  owing  to  the  light  hull,  but  she  was 
showering  the  salt  spray  like  a  bird  of  Paradise  —  too 
much  resistance. 

We  struck  into  our  speed  by  then  and  she  slipped 
to  the  rear  before  I  had  time  to  glimpse  her  captain, 
nevertheless  I  heard  him  call : 

"  Bet  you  forty  to  one !  " 

"  Nothing  doing !  —  Never  bet  on  a  sure  thing !  " 
The  owner  of  the  Swallow  yelled  derisively.  "  Pile 
it  into  her,  Tom !  " 

He  gave  her  all  the  juice  there  was,  and  we  leapt 
forward. 

With  clear  water  ahead  the  pilots  could  afford  to 
watch  each  other  and  enjoy  the  sport.  I  glanced  over 
my  shoulder.  The  white  craft  reared,  honest  she  did ! 
Stood  up  on  her  rudder,  and  with  a  cloudy  pother  of 
foam  under  her  ribs  made  after  us.  But  we  held  our 
distance. 

"What's  your  name?"  hollered  her  master.  "I'll 
double  the  odds !  " 

I  shook  my  head,  grinning.  We  flew  at  a  devil  of 
a  pace  now  and  I  had  no  time  for  words.  He  was 
not  a  man  easily  discouraged. 

"  Lunch  with  me  if  I  win,"  he  cried.  I  fancied  I 
must  have  met  him  and  forgotten,  and  was  about  to  nod 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  103 

acceptance,  when  I  saw  his  bow  a  bare  inch  behind 
mine  —  even  —  ahead.  Gee !  Losing  that  race  was 
worse  than  losing  my  character.  I  couldn't  believe 
my  eyes,  and  didn't  cinch  the  reason  till  his  stern  was 
overlapping  us.  Then  I  saw  the  Swallowed  dropped 
her  speed.  Any  Christian  who  thinks  my  temper 
wasn't  at  boiling  point  has  got  another  guess  coming ! 

The  white  boat  sailed  away  from  pursuit,  her  boss 
sitting  erect  and  cupping  one  hand  to  cry  aspersions 
across  the  lengthening  space  of  foam-flecked  water: 

"Quitter!" 

Outlined  against  the  Recket's  blue  of  August  mid- 
day he  seemed  about  thirty  years  old.  His  blue 
jersey  bathing  suit  showed  off  good  muscular  propor- 
tions. Though  he  was  a  bit  on  the  heavy  side  for 
an  athlete  he  might  easily  have  classed  under  train- 
ing. Above  a  flat  forehead  a  thick  crop  of  brown 
hair  rose  straight  on  end,  giving  him  a  very  wide- 
awake expression.  He  looked  as  fresh  as  he  acted, 
and  that's  quite  some.  In  soup  and  fish  he  might 
have  been  anybody  or  nobody  —  I  was  too  mad  to 
take  stock  in  him. 

"  You  lost  that  race!  You  did  it  on  purpose!  "  I 
flung  the  words  savagely  at  Tom. 

"  The  fellow's  an  impudent  puppy,"  growled  my 
engineer.  "  '  Lunch  with  me ! '  Gosh !  What  does 
he  think  we  are  anyway  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  know  him !  I  knew  his  face  perfectly  well. 
You  don't  understand.  He  was  asking  the  name  of 
the  boat.  I  must  have  bowed  to  him  some  place  and 
forgotten." 

"  He  was  not  asking  the  name  of  the  boat.  He  was 
damned  fresh!  He  could  have  run  us  bow  and  bow, 


104  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

docked  a  minute  behind  and  made  good  on  the  intro- 
duction. I  know  the  breed.  A  financial  upstart  with 
an  eye  like  a  hawk's  for  money,  and  perfectly  unscrup- 
ulous methods  of  advancing  his  own  interests." 

"  Shut  up !  "  I  snapped.  "  You're  not  running  this 
boat,  and  you  have  no  call  to  run  me." 

The  way  we  sulked  home  was  a  sample  of  our  nasty 
natures,  but  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to  sack  Tom,  he 
was  a  real  person  in  his  way  and  always  ready  to  fetch 
and  carry  on  shore. 

I  might  have  had  a  swell  time  that  summer  playing 
with  the  Swanhills  and  their  crowd,  if  Henri  de  Grasse 
hadn't  everlastingly  been  butting  in.  He  hated  to  see 
me  lolling  about  enjoying  candy  instead  of  cigars,  and 
flirting.  He  was  dead  scared  I'd  marry,  for  men 
make  themselves  heroes  to  a  dollar  princess,  so  to  di- 
vert me  he  grew  more  keen  on  showing  up  the  murder. 

Every  week  he'd  haul  me  back  to  town  and  begin 
negotiations  for  detective  work  —  now  on  one  line 
and  now  on  another.  We  found  the  mansion  with 
the  sliding  panels  and  rented  the  house  next  door. 
When  the  keys  were  handed  over  and  the  agent  finally 
left  us,  Henri  rushed  at  the  business  feverishly.  We 
put  in  a  morning  calculating  how  much  of  our  wall  lay 
against  the  wall  of  Jacobs's  wing  smoking  room ;  and 
just  about  where  we  would  strike  into  the  latter  if  an 
opening  were  cut  through. 

Sakes !  It  was  hot  that  August  in  New  York !  De 
Grasse  had  to  back  out  himself  once  or  twice  and  beat 
it  for  a  cool  corner.  We  received  lots  of  bids  to  Deal 
Beach  and  such  places,  and  doubtless  the  necessity  of 
returning  to  town,  of  coming  and  going  and  flitting 
about  was  the  best  medicine  for  my  social  standing. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  105 

Nobody  knew  that  during  my  absences  I  was  swelter- 
ing over  Henri's  murder  in  close  Manhattan.  Racing 
back  and  forth  lent  me  the  appearance  of  a  very  popu- 
lar young  lady  —  I  was  IT. 

Clarissa  gave  up  buying  diamonds,  Henri  didn't 
think  much  of  jewelry,  and  bought  rubber  instead. 
Beaty  Swanhill  kept  on  warning  me,  but  every  time  I 
saw  the  winged  snake  with  that  doll  galosh  floating 
alongside,  I  just  naturally  had  to  go  and  order  some 
more  of  the  stock.  After  a  while  it  began  to  soar  and 
Beaty's  eye  beamed  an  appreciative,  critical  glance  as 
we  discussed  business.  He  thought  I  was  the  foxy 
grandma,  all  right!  And  was  dying  to  know  my 
mentor. 

By  this  time  the  lists  of  my  personal  property  showed 
a  limousine,  open  car,  victrola,  golf  sticks,  polo  cos- 
tumes, wrist  watches  and  innumerable  junk.  All  that 
the  swells  flaunted  I  could  match,  and  more.  Thanks 
to  Cobalt  I  could  out-ride  them,  and  out-dress  them. 
I  had  natural  advantages  over  the  ruck  in  looks,  and 
was  perfectly  Scot  free.  Moreover  and  above  —  I 
boasted  brains.  Henri  led  me  the  long  way  round 
from  lots  of  pitfalls;  and  I  gave  him  certain  pointers 
on  tactics.  We  sure  had  the  men  going  down  by  the 
sea,  but  the  women  —  nix  on  the  swell  women ! 
They  get  my  goat!  There's  more  breadth  in  the 
thickness  of  a  man's  little  finger  nail,  than  in  the  whole 
avoirdupois  of  those  social  leaders.  They  never  ac- 
cept you  for  what  you  are,  though  some  of  them  will 
come  across  for  what  you  have,  and  any  of  them  for 
what  your  grandfather  had  —  if  he  had  enough!  It 
was  the  women  put  me  on  to  getting  old  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth's ear-rings  back,  and  having  them  fixed  up  with 


io6  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

diamonds  instead  of  the  original  bits  of  colored  glass. 
I  simply  yearned  to  reveal  my  ancestors  under  a  spot- 
light, as  it  were;  and  therefore  all  that  followed  from 
the  ear-rings  is  up  to  that  female  bunch.  But  it 
doesn't  belong  here,  and  if  I  ever  get  the  facts  mis- 
placed —  Lord !  I'll  be  in  a  regular  mess. 

I  could  write  an  entire  book  on  the  history  of  my 
summer,  and  it  would  be  rapid  history  too,  with  the 
old  ladies  snubbing,  and  the  young  ones  jealous,  and 
all  makes  of  available  bachelors  jostling  to  shove  in 
line  for  a  grab  at  my  money  bags,  or  at  least  to  beg 
a  ride  in  the  Swallow.  Such  stuff  has  been  written 
and  published  before  this  —  and  purchased  and  de- 
voured. The  human  bug  is  interesting  enough  in  his 
more  complex  motives,  if  one  hasn't  heaps  of  pulse- 
stirring  adventure  to  recite  —  things  happening  bang ! 
biff!  bang!  —  like  a  bunch  of  firecrackers  going  off. 
I  mean  to  tell  the  adventures  and  let  each  reader  figure 
out  for  himself  how  everybody  looked,  and  what  they 
wore  at  the  circus,  and  who  thought  this  about  that  one, 
and  so  on  and  so  forth. 

Truth  is  I  almost  stopped  thinking  myself  during 
the  height  of  the  season.  Hurly-burly  wasn't  any 
name  for  life!  Proposals  popped  like  champagne 
corks,  and,  take  it  from  me,  in  our  crowd  that  indi- 
cates frequency.  Mostly  it  was  the  little  make  or 
break  one-cylinder  engines  missed  fire;  boys  who  had 
run  in,  God  knows  how,  for  a  week-end  with  the  big 
speed,  and  who  would  never  have  another  chance. 

But  I  didn't  fall  for  sentiment,  not  even  from  Beaty 
Swanhill  —  and  Beaty  was  reckoned  quite  a  bit  of  a 
catch  socially. 


CHAPTER  X 

About  the  time  autumn  turned  too  cold  for  motor- 
boating,  Griggs  cabled  his  arrival.  He  had  gone  over 
for  grouse;  had  never  missed  the  twelfth  at  Helling- 
ham  in  his  life,  and  seemed  to  think  that  date  awfully 
important.  Do  you  get  it  —  crossing  the  great  big 
ocean  to  shoot  birdies!  Dates  must  run  in  families 
like  twins  and  strawberry  leaves.  Well,  Howard  took 
his  fill  of  the  sport  and  started  back,  and  I  was  tickled 
by  the  news  because  we'd  cooked  it  up  to  go  in  on  this 
detective  business  together,  and  Henri  was  champing 
his  bit. 

Of  course  I  didn't  live  in  that  small  house  we  had 
rented,  lying  in  the  bosom  of  Jacobs's  L.  We  were  in 
no  position  to  court  attention  or  comment,  and  while 
one  can  be  pretty  sure  of  New  Yorkers  not  knowing 
or  caring  anything  about  their  poorer  neighbors, 
naturally  a  smuggling  bunch  would  have  their  eyes 
peeled  in  all  directions,  so  we  came  and  went  from  that 
place  unostentatiously  by  night. 

Excitement  is  no  word  for  Griggs's  frame  of  mind 
when  I  let  him  in  on  the  scheme.  And  when  we  actu- 
ally began  to  work  with  picks  and  hammers  in  a  bare, 
darkly  shuttered  room,  its  only  light  turned  and 
shaded  to  throw  a  spot  on  the  conspirators,  our  red 
corpuscles  scampered  like  mice  in  the  wainscot. 

"  Here's  mud !  "  I  cried,  twisting  my  skewer  out 
107 


io8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

and  scattering  a  shower  of  plaster;  and  then  had  to 
stop  and  explain  the  idiom. 

We  started  gaily,  thinking  those  first  steps,  digging 
a  hole  through  our  wall  and  then  on  through  theirs, 
would  be  nothing  at  all,  but,  say,  when  it  comes  to 
manual  labor  that  kind  of  thing  takes  quite  some  time. 
The  farther  we  got  the  quieter  we  had  to  go.  Hour 
after  hour  we  scraped  and  pried,  softly  loosening  a 
brick  at  a  venture,  and  then  another  and  so  on,  being 
'specially  cautious  towards  the  end  that  sounds  might 
not  penetrate.  We  weren't  exactly  sure  of  our  sur- 
face, and  while  not  expecting  secret  springs  and  deep 
set  cupboards  in  an  outer  ramification,  you  never  can 
tell  what  these  robber  barons  will  contrive  —  our  game 
was  to  move  slowly  lest  a  whizzing  and  a  buzzing  and 
dodging  doors,  if  not  police  alarms,  should  throw  our 
actions  open  to  a  most  unsympathetic  world.  We 
wanted  to  steer  clear  of  cupboards  and  all  other  ob- 
stacles, for  theft  had  no  part  or  lot  in  the  scheme  — 
at  least  not  a  drug  theft.  Like  wise  men  of  old  we 
sought  knowledge,  and  our  object  was  to  come  up 
with  the  back  of  the  neighbor's  carved  woodwork.  I 
calculated  pieces  might  be  carefully  cut  away  there 
to  afford  eye  holes,  and  a  listening  chink,  though 
hearing  anything  from  such  a  position  would  be  no 
cinch. 

Griggs  was  a  scream  all  through  —  that  delayed  the 
work  too.  It  was  a  "  bally  funny  "  occupation  for 
one  so  nifty.  I  laughed  to  see  him  going  into  the 
dirty  job  with  as  great  gusto  as  a  truant  mixing  mud 
pies.  Gloves  preserved  his  manicure,  but  a  white 
shirt,  and  silk  hose  and  patent  pumps  aren't  a  first 
class  brickpicker's  costume;  they  got  the  worst  of  the 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  109 

bout  and  then,  of  course,  it  was  too  late  to  do  any 
good.  He  was  a  sight,  a  mess  of  lime,  his  round  face 
extraordinarily  red,  and  perspiration  streaming  from 
every  pore. 

Between  laughing  and  looking  I  guess  I  left  him  to 
do  most  of  the  manual  —  odd  how  soon  work  grows 
monotonous ;  a  year  of  Sundays  seemed  to  pass  be- 
fore we  struck  it  soft,  and  Howard  muffled  my  tri- 
umphant squeal  in  his  glove. 

"  Jove,  you  mustn't  wake  the  blighters !  Come  out 
of  the  cave  and  talk.  How  do  I  look?  " 

He  commenced  dusting  at  himself  here  and  there, 
dabbing  at  shoulders  and  knees  like  a  birdie  preening 
its  plumes. 

"  You  look  fierce,"  I  chirped.  "  But  we're  on  the 
boards  sure  enough.  Take  a  lung- full  and  then  we'll 
go  to  it  and  see  what  we  can  see." 

I  switched  on  our  electric  torch,  but  it  failed  to  re- 
veal any  clue  to  the  relative  position  of  our  neighbor's 
mouldings.  No  little  ridges  or  seams,  such  as  I  had 
hoped  for,  no  cracks,  just  beautiful  planed  light  boards, 
showing  the  traces  of  what  had  been  Jacobs's  wall, 
and  now  lay  in  a  neat  pile  behind  us. 

"  We're  treed !  —  I  might  have  known  that  fine  stuff 
would  be  backed  flat.  What  are  we  going  to  do 
now?" 

"  A  bird  and  a  bottle  wouldn't  be  amiss,  eh  — 
what?" 

"  Splendid !  But  gee !  There's  a  splash  on  the 
dashboard.  I  mean  we'll  have  to  clean  up." 

"  Right  oh !  I  very  often  have  to  conjecture  what 
you  do  mean,  Miss  Clarissa,  owing  to  your  command 
of  the  great  American  language." 


no  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  laughed.  "  Then  let's  descend  to  simple  prose. 
'  Use  Sapolio.'  But  what's  the  good  of  quoting  to  a 
man  who's  not  familiar  with  the  national  classics? 
That's  from  a  series  of  bully  street-car  ads.  They 
created  quite  an  intellectual  stir  —  nobody's  been  able 
to  decide  yet  whether  Shakespeare  or  Bacon  wrote 
'em." 

"  Ah  —  I'm  afraid  I  never  ride  in  trams." 

"  You  miss  one  of  the  freest  gifts  of  life  —  Ameri- 
can art  instinct  is  focused  on  the  pictorial  advertise- 
ment. We  can't  call  a  taxi  here,  so  let's  walk  out  to 
Madison  Avenue  and  take  a  car  down  to  the  hotel. 
Mixing  with  the  proletariat  will  help  us  to  think,  any- 
way." 

We  tidied  each  other  up  as  much  as  possible  and 
didn't  look  unlike  the  rest  of  the  world,  as  we  boarded 
a  green  one  and  dropped  our  nickels  at  the  door. 

"  Behold !     Your  education  is   about  to  begin." 

While  he  adjusted  his  monocle,  I  ran  the  line  of  ads 
over,  and  my  eye  fastened  on  a  demonstration  of  a 
new-fangled  suction  cleaner  for  mouldings,  carvings, 
etc. 

"  Golly!  "  cried  I,  almost  pinching  Griggs.  (Think 
of  being  that  intimate  with  a  real  swell!  It  goes  to 
show  what  a  leveler  honest  labor  is.)  "Do  you  see 
the  painted  houri  up  there  manipulating  a  Gadfly  on  a 
Louis  quince  chair  from  A.  &  S's.  Farther  on  — 
near  the  middle.  She  solves  our  problem  —  or  at  least 
she  carries  us  half  way." 

"  Bally  poor  drawing,"  was  his  first  comment. 

"  Listen!  I'm  going  to  operate  one  like  him  in  our 
neighbor's  smoking  room." 

"  How  do  you  know  Jacobs  has  one?  " 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  in 

"  Don't  know  —  hope  he  hasn't.  I'm  going  to  sell 
him  one,  and  then  I'm  going  to  demonstrate  —  person- 
ally conducted  tour  for  a  flabby  financier.  I'm  going 
to  act  as  an  agent  of  that  firm." 

Howard  stared  at  me  open  mouthed.  "  But  you 
aren't  an  agent,  eh  —  what  ?  " 

"  I'm  off  to  apply  for  the  job  to-morrow  morning. 
Watch  me!" 

"  Do  you  think  they  —  ah,  they'll  take  you  on?  " 

"  Take  me  on !  "  I  laughed,  thinking  privately  of  the 
trepidation  with  which  I  had  approached  Bain  &  Ding- 
ley.  "If  they  don't  we'll  buy  the  firm.  I  never  was 
so  set  on  anything  in  all  my  life  as  on  that  suction 
cleaner." 

After  all  I  didn't  have  to  buy  the  blooming  com- 
pany out.  Gadflies  sold  on  commission.  I  entered 
my  name,  paid  a  guarantee  for  the  sample  and  sallied 
forth.  It  was  then  too  late  for  business,  so  I  hustled 
around  and  looked  up  a  suitable  costume,  and  next 
morning  I  lay  for  the  man  of  the  house  and  nailed 
him  coming  out. 

Clarissa  isn't  bad  looking,  and  she  had  spent  money 
to  dress  the  part ;  also  she  has  a  way,  when  she  wants, 
of  getting  her  hooks  into  people.  Jacobs  fell  for  me 
and  made  an  appointment  to  have  the  thing  demon- 
strated at  his  office. 

I  knew  there  wouldn't  be  enough  carving  in  any 
office  in  New  York  city  to  give  my  pet  what  I  con- 
sidered a  fair  trial,  but  gently  does  it,  a  step  at  a  time. 
I  turned  up  on  the  minute,  wearing  a  sweet  timid  smile, 
and  an  earnest  innocent  air  —  selling  a  cleaner  was 
so  very  important  to  the  poor  little  girl,  she  would  al- 
most have  done  anything  to  sell  her  first  machine. 


ii2  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Easy  as  shooting  fish  in  a  barrel.  Jacobs  fell  for 
me  harder  than  ever.  He  crashed.  And  when  I'd 
played  around  with  him  a  little,  I  asked  straight  out 
if  there  wasn't  any  carved  furniture,  or  any  place  in 
his  house  where  I  could  really  show  him  the  wonders 
of  the  Gadfly,  and  prove  its  value.  Of  course  his  mind 
jumped  at  once  to  the  ornate  seclusion  of  that  Chinese 
room.  My  words  had  suggested,  as  nearly  as  I  dared, 
just  such  a  spot.  He  hummed  and  hawed  a  bit,  finally 
appointing  me  to  go  and  clean  the  smoking  room  in  his 
home  next  morning.  I  was  to  be  sure  to  turn  up  at 
nine  o'clock,  before  he  left  for  the  office,  so  that  he 
could  show  me  the  place  himself. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered  meekly,  for  as  a  mere  agent 
I  wasn't  guessing  how  elaborate  those  decorations 
were.  And  then  I  tripped  away  along  his  double 
avenue  of  clerks,  and  flew  into  the  nearest  telephone 
booth  to  bellow  my  success  at  Griggs. 

Lordy!  What  a  chance!  All  day  alone  there  and 
working  right  over  the  spring!  Success!  The 
scheme  had  prospered  beyond  our  wildest  expectation. 
I  marvelled  at  the  man  running  a  risk  of  discovery,  or 
a  risk  of  damage  to  the  delicate  mechanism.  But  I 
had  to  learn  about  Jacobs  from  him. 

Next  day  he  escorted  me  directly  into  the  L  room, 
and,  take  it  from  me,  I  was  mightily  relieved.  The 
old  lady  with  the  tipsy  figure  8  had  looked  the  cater- 
er's people  well  over,  and  some  of  these  madames  have 
memories  like  a  boss  Free  Mason.  She  might  have 
placed  me  even  in  my  piquant  disguise,  and  she  would 
certainly  have  spotted  the  price  of  those  simple  and 
vastly  becoming  clothes  —  maybe  have  subtracted 
them  from  Jacobs's  income  —  I  thanked  my  lucky  stars 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  113 

that  his  family  were  the  happy  kind  that  lie  blissfully 
unconscious  of  crimes  on  their  own  doorstep  until 
eleven  thirty  A.  M. 

I  hadn't  gone  into  the  details  with  Griggs,  but  natur- 
ally I  expected  a  joy  ride.  You  can't  be  a  working 
girl  alone  in  New  York  without  cutting  your  eye  teeth, 
and  my  new  employer  was  quite  too  prompt  and  too 
personal  to  be  single-eyed  about  the  little  business 
deal.  But  I  hadn't  been  looking  for  his  burst  of 
speed  —  Samuel  was  no  flivver  when  it  came  to  senti- 
ment—  so  I  nearly  suffered  a  smack  from  that  fat 
old  Jew  before  I  got  the  speedometer  tamed.  I  come 
close  to  kicking  myself  every  time  I  think  of  him. 

"  Over  here,"  he  commanded.  "  I  want  to  show 
you  something." 

I  crossed  the  floor  slowly,  alive  to  the  stupendous 
fact  that  we  were  standing  facing  his  secret,  tingling 
with  excitement  and  revulsion  from  the  presence  and 
nearness  of  it  and  him.  Only  Jacobs,  the  boss,  stood 
now  between  me  and  my  object. 

As  a  matter  of  course  he  slipped  an  arm  around  the 
little  agent  and  drew  her  against  his  great  bulk.  I 
twisted  from  under  his  fat  elbow  and  sprang  behind 
a  chair  —  the  very  chair  in  which  Griggs  had  knelt 
when  he  found  me  sobbing.  I  was  near,  tantalizingly 
near  to  Mecca  —  but  there  was  that  old  woman-eater 
rising  strong  as  Gibraltar  in  the  foreground. 

He  laughed  and  lunged  for  me,  and  I  sidestepped 
again,  but  after  a  very  short  spell  of  puss-in-the- 
corner  he  got  mad.  Winded  I  guess,  too  stout  to  play 
the  game  gracefully,  and  spoiled  by  getting  everything 
just  when  he  wanted  it.  The  Salamander  act  —  ig- 
noring him  and  piquing,  and  tempting  him  on  — 


H4  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

wouldn't  have  worked  with  Samuel  Jacobs,  big  pow- 
erful brute.  If  the  butler  hadn't  come  knocking  at 
the  door,  calling  out  that  some  person  wanted  him  par- 
ticularly on  the  telephone,  I'd  have  been  mauled  sure. 
Bah!  How  I  loathed  mankind  then!  But  I  couldn't 
split  into  an  open  quarrel  with  the  game  so  close  un- 
der my  hand. 

As  soon  as  the  host  left,  I  flew  to  the  case  where  my 
trusty  Gadfly  lay,  and  got  it  out  directly,  so  that  I  was 
hard  at  work,  earnest  and  innocent  and  distant  against 
his  return.  Clarissa  was  counting  on  all  morning  to 
explore  those  walls,  and  she  got  it  —  with  the  icing 
off  the  cake  though,  pretty  clean. 

Matters  downtown  must  have  been  pressing.  Ja- 
cobs left  the  door  open  when  he  came  back,  and  he 
only  buzzed  in  for  a  minute. 

"  Got  to  go  —  appointment  —  sorry  —  want  to 
show  you  this."  Manner  and  voice  indicated  business 
only.  With  relief  I  watched  him  cross  to  the  wall  — 
THE  WALL  —  and  raise  his  hand.  My  eyes  glued 
themselves  on  the  spot.  Then  a  horrible  thought  over- 
whelmed me :  suppose  he  made  me  a  prisoner  —  shoved 
me  into  the  secret  chamber  and  let  the  old  woman 
pick  my  bones.  I'm  no  coward,  if  I  do  say  it,  but  my 
knees  shook.  His  fingers  rested  on  the  very  corner 
I  had  banged.  But  he  was  talking  again,  and  I  had  to 
wrench  my  wits  to  attention. 

"  There  are  special  panels  here,"  he  said.  "  Built 
in  when  I  bought  the  house.  If  you  come  on  them 
while  cleaning,  don't  call  anybody  —  don't  be  sur- 
prised. You  see  they  spring  out  so,  and  you  can  shut 
them  with  a  push." 

Before  my  astonished  gaze  he  lightly  opened  the 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  115 

door  of  the  first  cupboard  I  had  glimpsed,  and  another 
beside  it.  Both  closets  were  absolutely  empty! 

"  Mum's  the  word,  girlie.     Do  you  get  me?  " 

While  I  yet  stood  petrified,  staring  up  at  the  wall, 
he  turned,  and  placing  one  finger  under  my  tilted  chin, 
advanced  his  thick  lips.  That's  where  I  nearly  got 
off.  In  a  flash  hate  and  chagrin  boiled  over ;  I  jerked 
away  fiercely  angry,  showing  bared  teeth  and  my  hon- 
est opinion  of  the  old  scoundrel. 

"No?"  the  master  hazarded  in  utmost  surprise. 
"  Still  haughty.  Well,  I  must  be  quick.  Make  a 
good  job  of  it."  And  on  that  he  turned  and  hurried 
out. 

But  I  wasn't  free  to  walk  out.  No,  sir,  I  had  to 
stay  there  and  clean  the  damned  room  all  morning  — 
and  not  a  blooming  thing  to  find  —  not  a  paper  to 
peek  at! 

After  my  frantic,  soul-sweeping  disappointment 
had  subsided  to  a  moderate  gale  of  feeling,  I  was 
forced  to  admire  the  wise  old  guy  taking  an  outsider 
into  confidence,  rather  than  risk  discovery  by  his 
household  servants.  Between  gusts  I  commenced  to 
wonder  what  the  emptiness  signified.  Had  he  gone 
out  of  the  smuggling  business? 

All  the  time  I  kept  my  fingers  busy,  for  I  had  a  job 
to  do,  so  that  philandering  my  way  into  the  heart  of  a 
deserted  citadel  could  not  be  counted  waste  effort.  I 
had  armed  myself  with  many  sharp,  headless  steel 
pins,  and  pacing  off  the  location  of  our  dug-out  be- 
hind, I  proceeded  to  drive  these  clean  through  the 
carving,  thereby  outlining  several  small  wyells  of  the 
ornament  in  such  a  way  that  they  could  be  cut  from  the 
back  and  surreptitiously  removed.  I  calculated  the 


u6  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

center-light  in  the  room  would  bank  darkness  against 
the  walls  at  night  and  cover  our  fraud;  and  I  was 
pleased  to  note  how  easily  the  steel  ran  into  the  soft 
wood;  evidently  the  boarding  on  our  side  was  only  a 
thin  layer  and  not  difficult  to  cut  away. 

At  noon  the  Gadfly  girl  quit  for  lunch,  and  you  bet 
she  didn't  turn  up  again,  either  in  Jacobs's  house  or  at 
the  head  office.  Instead,  I  called  for  Griggsy  and  he 
arranged  a  condolence  party. 

If  we  only  could  have  had  parties  without  women 
—  swell  women  never  failed  to  introduce  the  discord- 
ant note.  One  of  the  doves  we  met  that  afternoon 
wore  an  .ancient  and  very  ugly  bracelet  which  her  forty- 
second  grandmother  once  removed  had  come  by,  no 
doubt  quite  properly,  when  she  took  the  washing  home 
to  the  Duke;  and  she  began  putting  on  side  over  the 
Mayflower  flotilla.  Makes  me  sick!  If  social  Amer- 
ica knew  more  history,  it  would  burn  less  incense  be- 
fore the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  who  were  nothing  more 
than  earnest  working  people.  We're  all  bound  to  have 
had  ancestors,  sure  thing,  an  unbroken  line  on  both 
sides  of  the  family  —  but  if  they  weren't  ripsnorters, 
what's  the  sense  of  blowing  about  them? 

This  creature  with  her  high-falutin'  talk  made  me 
mad  and  clinched  the  idea  of  Aunt  Elizabeth's  ear-rings. 
I  determined  to  get  them  out  of  pawn,  have  some  bona 
fide  flashers  put  in,  like  she  had  done,  and  be  wearing 
jewels  on  the  settings  of  which,  at  least,  my  grand- 
mother had  cast  a  spell. 

Henri  and  I  are  thrifty  folk,  we'd  kept  the  tail  of 
our  eye  on  the  pawn  ticket  and  knew  it  was  just  about 
due,  so  first  convenient  moment  I  hustled  round  to 
Second  Avenue  and  interviewed  my  uncle.  I  was 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  117 

so  swathed  in  luxury  now  it  went  against  the  grain 
to  visit  slums,  and  this  was  the  real  lowdown  shop 
where  I  had  stored  my  superfluous  garments  while 
trying  to  make  up  the  Cobalt  fare.  The  dingy  shop 
being  full  I  had  to  wait  my  turn.  I  hate  dinge  and 
unwashed  humanity,  and  I  hate  waiting.  I  stood  by 
with  a  pencil  and  my  card,  for  Henri's  utmost  efforts 
failed  to  make  me  accurate  at  figures  in  my  head  and 
I'd  been  calculating  the  interest.  Impatience  made 
me  restless.  I  began  to  jab  the  pencil  point  into  little 
holes  on  the  counter  thinking  how  I  had  driven  those 
pins  through  Samuel  Jacobs's  woodwork.  I  noticed 
the  boss  observed  me  and  I  was  suddenly  overcome 
by  a  shop-girl  feeling  —  real  embarrassment  at  hav- 
ing marked  his  counter.  This  set  my  nerves  fidgeting 
more  than  ever,  but  I  transferred  my  high  art  stunt  to 
the  card,  and  drew  a  fine  full-tailed  portrait  of  Henri's 
snake.  I  had  grown  quite  familiar  with  the  sign  now, 
and  often  amused  myself  seeing  how  few  strokes  I 
could  make  him  in. 

Of  course  I  realized  the  old  reptile  must  mean  a 
great  deal  to  several  people,  but  hunting  for  a  needle 
in  a  haystack  wasn't  my  line.  I'd  never  tried  to  work 
him  off,  and  when  the  head  man  came  to  wait  on  me, 
I  handed  over  the  ticket  without  a  thought. 

He  gave  me  one  swift,  keen,  understanding  glance, 
that  set  my  pulses  tingling;  then  proceeded  quietly  to 
the  back  of  the  shop,  opened  a  drawer  here  and  there, 
got  my  things  together,  apparently  all  in  the  regular 
course  of  business,  but,  when  those  odds  and  ends  were 
shoved  across,  he  whispered  without  moving  his  lips: 
"  Broadway  Subway,  Union  Square,  up  town." 

I  eyed  him  straight  before  putting  the  lot  into  an 


ii8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ample  handbag.  Not  a  fractional  expression  crossed 
his  face;  as  I  walked  out  of  the  shop  he  was  already 
attending  to  another  customer. 

I  dashed  around  the  corner  to  where  I  had  left  my 
car  and  dove  into  its  cushioned  privacy  in  the  wildest 
state  of  excitement.  What  luck!  What  a  coinci- 
dence! Blind  chance  had  led  me  into  a  dive  of  the 
gang  and  I  had  happened  —  just  happened  —  to  shove 
the  pass-sign  right  under  his  nose.  That  old  winged 
snake  had  got  them  going  fine!  What  I  was  to  meet 
at  Union  Square,  or  when  I  was  to  meet  it  remained 
a  mystery,  but  I  swore  to  be  there  if  I  had  to  take  my 
bed  and  sleep  on  the  platform. 

Sheer  luck  swung  on  vanity  with  a  hot  clue  lying  at 
my  hand  for  twelve  long  months,  was  the  way  it  all 
looked  at  first,  and  my  eyes  fairly  goggled  with  won- 
der over  what  might  be  lying  around  the  next  corner 
of  Fate.  If  I  had  spurned  the  Mayfiozvcr —  if  I  had 
hardened  my  soul  against  the  antique.  .  .  .  How  thin 
a  thread! 

"Jumpin'  Jimminy!  At  this  rate  I'll  hesitate 
whether  to  order  ice  cream  or  roly-poly  pudding  for 
desert !  "  I  cried. 

But  before  the  car  reached  Union  Square  I  had 
quieted  down  and  saw  the  thing  in  true  perspective. 
Coincidence  nothing!  There  was  no  luck  about  it. 
Henri,  of  course,  had  guided  me  to  that  shop  when 
first  he  prompted  the  pawning  of  my  extra  junk. 
And  in  due  time  he  had  rescued  those  ear-rings,  work- 
ing on  my  vanity  —  de  Grasse  knew  women.  I  had 
considered  the  drawing  of  the  snake  an  idle  whim,  but 
I  was  learning  daily  there  could  be  little  mental  idle- 
ness with  Henri  at  the  helm.  Now  what  was  he  up 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  119 

to?  Why  should  he  turn  crafty  and  not  take  me  into 
confidence  ?  Circumstances  pointed  to  some  culminat- 
ing plot.  It  behooved  me  to  use  my  own  wits  too.  I 
recounted  link  by  link  the  long  light  chain  wherewith 
he  had  lassoed  me  to  the  time  and  place.  Good 
Heavens!  If  Henri  was  going  to  practise  subtlety  I 
would  be  lost. 

Now  coldly  observant  and  controlled  I  dismissed  the 
motor  and  committed  myself  to  their  enterprise.  I 
had  paced  the  platform  perhaps  five  minutes,  eyeing 
the  people,  thinking  if  a  bunch  of  Jews  wanted  to  be 
inconspicuous,  they  had  sure  chosen  the  right  place  in 
that  melting  pot  of  Coney  Island  crowds,  when  I  spied 
my  man.  He  dropped  his  nickel,  glanced  to  right  and 
left  and  came  directly  toward  me.  He  looked  and 
acted  ordinary,  touching  his  hat,  smiling,  saying  in 
quite  a  well-bred,  pleasant  way : 

"  You  are  on  the  wrong  platform,  shall  we  cross?  " 

To  anybody  looking  on  it  meant  just  nothing,  but 
in  that  almost  deserted,  white-tiled  underground  pas- 
sage he  gave  me  my  verbal  instructions.  Whether  they 
were  framed  for  some  one  not  quite  in  the  know,  or 
my  ignorance  caused  the  blanks  I  could  not  telir"  I 
kept  my  mouth  shut,  believe  me,  for  fear  of  making 
mistakes,  and  I  listened  hard. 

"  To-morrow  morning  you  will  take  the  early  train 
for  Babylon,  on  the  south  shore  of  Long  Island.  At 
the  railroad  station  at  Babylon  enter  a  car  having  on 
its  side  a  streamer  marked  '  Millbrook  ' —  blue  and 
white.  The  driver  will  take  you  to  a  dock  where  a 
man  and  a  boat  will  be  found  waiting.  He  will  ac- 
company you  in  the  boat.  It  is  their  business  to  land 
you  on  a  sand  bar  some  forty  minutes'  run  from  the 


120  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

dock.  Then  their  business  ends.  You  will  speak  to 
no  one,  notice  nothing,  but  walk  at  once  to  a  square 
gray  house  standing  at  the  end  of  a  row  of  houses,  a 
little  apart,  isolated  on  the  dunes,  overlooking  the 
sea." 

Gosh!  Here  was  dyed-in-the-wool,  real  old-fash- 
ioned melodrama.  Until  that  minute  I'd  have 
said  the  world  had  outgrown  such  doings.  There 
was  financial  romance  and  plenty  to  be  had  if  you  made 
it  —  on  the  plan  of  the  Lelland  mine  scoop  —  but 
melodrama  surely  only  happened  to  newspaper  men 
and  then  had  to  be  colored  up  for  publication. 

He  stopped  abruptly  at  the  house  on  the  sea,  and  I 
didn't  dare  to  ask  for  more  —  probably  I  was  expected 
to  know  the  next  step. 

"  I'm  going  back  down  town,"  he  said.  "  You  had 
better  take  a  surface  car  up."  Then  he  hesitated.  "  I 
mistrusted  the  chief's  judgment  when  I  saw  you,"  he 
hurried  on.  "  But  you  are  most  discreet  —  most  — 
not  a  single  question." 

I  handed  him  my  best  smile  without  a  word,  and 
he  stood,  hat  off,  watching  me  mount  the  exit  stairs 
with  a  look  of  admiration  that  had  nothing  to  do  with 
business. 

To-morrow!  To-morrow  for  the  great  adventure! 
Everything  was  fixed  up  for  me  O.  K.  I  had  only  to 
proceed  according  to  programme  and  take  in  the 
scenery  a  la  Cook.  It  never  occurred  to  Clarissa  not 
to  go.  Griggs  enjoyed  the  supreme  triumph  of  turn- 
ing on  the  red  lights,  tuning  up  the  danger  motif  and 
all  that.  For,  of  course,  I  sent  at  once  to  my  con- 
federate. He  was  set  against  the  affair  from  the  start, 
and  suggested  all  sorts  of  horrors,  including  sand- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  121 

ticks  and  Chinamen.  The  last  pretty  nearly  made  a 
freeze  out,  for  there's  more  love  lost  between  a  French- 
man and  a  Prussian  than  there  is  between  me  and  the 
Celestials. 

Seeing  "  frightfulness  "  effective,  my  pal  lingered 
on  the  thought  trying  to  persuade  me.  But  talking 
ideas  over  always  makes  them  familiar,  and  familiarity 
breeds  contempt,  even  with  fear.  Courage  righted  it- 
self. Soon  my  imagination  began  to  run  on  what  was 
likely  to  happen  in  that  gray  house,  standing  apart, 
looking  out  to  the  sea.  I  couldn't  grow  familiar  with 
this  idea  because  of  being  left  guessing. 

I  stood  on  the  threshold  of  the  house  and  mystery 
—  to-morrow  I  would  have  the  chance  to  solve  it. 
Henri  and  the  woman  in  me  proved  too  strong  for 
Griggs. 

"  Nothing  doing,  Howard !  "  I  cried  finally.  "  Can 
it.  I'm  booked  for  Babylon  on  the  early  train  —  you 
may  come  along  if  you  like.  But  I'll  tell  you  some- 
thing. I  feel  so  chockful  of  excitement  and  curiosity, 
I'm  liable  to  bust  out  and  be  ready  for  the  madhouse 
between  this  and  that,  if  I  don't  get  busy  and  take  my 
mind  off  their  blooming  riddle.  What's  the  matter 
with  going  up  to  Jacobs's  corner  this  afternoon  and 
putting  in  a  bit  of  work.  My  fingers  itch  for  the  knife, 
and  my  eyes  burn  to  witness.  Let's  risk  being  seen 
for  once.  If  we  work  all  afternoon,  I  dare  say  we  can 
look  in  on  them  to-night,  and  to-night's  the  night  — 
at  least  it  may  very  well  be.  We  know  the  gang  are 
on  the  war-path ;  it's  the  snake  gang  —  Jacobs's  gang ; 
and  it's  more  than  probable  we'll  see  something  worth 
our  while. 


CHAPTER  XI 

"  Did  you  ever  feel  such  a  low-down  cuss  in  your 
life?  "  I  asked,  as  we  climbed  the  high  stoop  of  Number 

17- 

"Rather  hollow  about  the  spine,  isn't  it?" 

"Hollow!  I  feel  as  if  the  whole  universe  was  a 
vacuum  crystal  globe,  with  me  and  my  criminal  inten- 
tions in  the  center,  and  every  Jew  alive  gazing  in  to 
read  his  fortune." 

"  I  feel  like  a  bride  and  groom,"  he  replied,  blushing 
poppy  red. 

"  So  long  as  you  feel  like  the  bride  too,  it  lets  me 
out,"  I  laughed.  "  But  you're  on.  This  is  a  sort  of 
public  confession  of  complicity.  If  society  could  only 
peep  inside  at  us,  how  surprised  it  would  be.  You 
look  positively  domestic." 

We  had  provided  ourselves  with  huge,  blue  checked 
kitchen  aprons;  and  our  room  by  this  time  resembled 
an  armory  or  a  section  of  the  patent  office,  bristling 
with  knives  and  chisels  of  every  size  and  shape.  For 
we  were  poor  enough  workmen  to  quarrel  with  our 
tools,  and  eager  to  further  a  tedious  job  by  employ- 
ing scimitars  and  two-edged  swords. 

The  space  opened  through  the  bricks  had  narrowed 
considerably  from  our  original  margins,  and  so,  when 
we  began  hacking  at  the  boards,  we  were  obliged  to 
stand  very  close  together. 

"  Do  you  know  what  we  are  doing?  "  asked  How- 

122 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  123 

ard.  "  In  plain  English,  we  hope  to  spy  —  if  possi- 
ble to  listen.  Romance  has  its  degrading  side,  eh  — 
what?" 

"This  is  detective  work!"  I  answered  indignantly. 
"  We  are  being  very  deliberate  about  it  and  have  gone 
to  a  lot  of  expense  and  trouble.  I  guess  that  squares 
things  on  our  side.  Listening  is  only  despicable  when 
you  flop  behind  a  curtain  and  then  tell  how  many  times, 
he  kissed  her.  Savvy?" 

"If  anybody  was  listening  now,  old  thing  —  ?" 

"  There  isn't  anybody,"  I  said,  chiselling  away 
earnestly. 

A  pause  followed.  I  glanced  up,  saw  his  pink  face 
approaching,  caught  the  intention  in  his  eye,  and 
thwarted  it. 

"  Howard  Griggs,  I  forbid  you.  I've  never  been 
kissed,  and  I'm  not  going  to  be  till  I'm  married." 

I  thought  the  last  word  would  frighten  an  English- 
man, and  it  did. 

"  Women  have  no  modesty  —  no  reticence,"  he 
murmured. 

"  He  who  hesitates  is  lost,"  I  murmured  back  as  one 
disinterested,  and  then  a  painful  silence  hung  about  us 
for  a  year. 

"  Clarissa,"  he  ventured  at  last,  "  I  don't  believe  you 
will  ever  be  married.  You  are  so  like  a  man  in  cer- 
tain ways  —  business  and  money  affairs  —  so  inde- 
pendent. I  don't  believe  you  would  stand  for  a  man 
around." 

His  words,  nearly  expressing  one  of  my  secret  anxie- 
ties, caused  me  to  fly  at  him  in  amazed  indignation. 

"  I'd  like  you  to  understand  that  Henri  de  Grasse  is 
nothing  to  me  but  wits  —  not  one  atom.  He  hasn't 


124  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

got  a  say-so  when  it  comes  to  other  matters  —  not  — 
not  mental.  I'd  just  like  to  see  him  butting  in  on  a 
wedding." 

And  then  I  hung  on  to  the  wall  for  support  because 
I  realized  I  had  given  the  whole  show  away. 

Griggs  stared.  "  I  don't  know  who  Henri  thing- 
umbob is  —  if  it's  the  chap  running  your  boat,  you 
needn't  get  so  jolly  warm  about  him,"  he  said  sulkily, 
and  striking  another  note,  "  Can't  you  understand  it's 
just  minds  which  are  so  hard  to  adjust  when  two  per- 
sons get  —  tied  up  together?  Look  at  me  and  my 
niece.  If  it  wasn't  for  these  bally  silly  notions  An- 
gelica takes  —  lecturing  in  America  and  all  that  —  I 
could  settle  down  and  live  at  Hellingham  the  year 

round  —  or  at  least  I  might  settle  down  —  settle  down 

» 

He  floundered,  and  I  left  him  to  it  for  his  words  had 
set  me  thinking  hard.  How  much  of  Clarissa  Ken- 
dall had  gone  over  to  Henri's  control,  and  how  much 
of  her  could  I  count  on  as  myself?  From  the  first 
I  had  been  entirely  willing  to  join  forces,  to  depend 
on  de  Grasse.  He  financed  me  and  amused  me,  but 
I  wasn't  sure  I  had  bargained  for  him  to  absorb  me. 
This  question  of  sentiment  raised  a  new  issue.  When 
a  girl  gives  the  impression  of  not  being  able  to  stand 
a  man  around,  it's  one  sure  thing  the  real  men  won't 
stand  her  around  unless  for  her  money  or  her  youth  — 
and  —  puppets!  That  class  ain't  good  enough  for 
Granny's  girl.  If  I  wanted  a  man  I  wanted  a 
MAN  ;  and  if  I  wanted  a  husband  and  family  now  was 
the  time  to  snatch  them  —  but  did  I  want  them  ?  Was 
I  content  to  chase  adventure  with  Griggs  and  buy  roses 
from  Lilly  Love? 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  125 

Stalled!  Brought  up  short.  And  almost  thrown 
into  the  ditch! 

It  was  perfectly  true.  We  had  been  ordering  flow- 
ers twice  a  day  from  the  beautiful  blonde  at  the  corner. 
And  before  he  discovered  her  my  hands  were  manicured 
at  the  same  table  every  morning  for  a  month;  and 
before  that  it  was  a  waitress.  Lord  deliver  us! 
Where  was  Henri  leading  me? 

"  Clarissa,"  said  I  to  myself  solemnly.  "  You'll 
cut  a  fine  figure  flirting  with  the  chickens  in  your  mid- 
dle age.  You've  driven  Henri  on  the  snaffle  much  too 
long.  I  begin  to  suspicion  de  Grasse  is  some  dark 
horse  —  but  maybe  it's  only  his  nature.  Anyway, 
whatever  is  his  nature  is  apt  to  be  your  second  nature, 
so  mind  and  keep  it  second.  Take  warning  and  get 
busy." 

By  five  o'clock  we  finished  thinning  the  boards  that 
backed  our  neighbor's  decoration;  and  commenced 
whittling  out  the  pieces  I  had  marked.  Although 
seemingly  so  simple  it  was  desperately  difficult  for  us, 
and  occupied  every  faculty.  If  any  person  had  chosen 
to  sit  in  the  smoking  room  next  door  just  at  that  hour, 
we  must  surely  have  been  discovered,  for  a  whole 
orchestra  of  gnawing  rats  could  hardly  have  got  away 
with  the  sound  of  our  scraping.  I  doped  out  the  thick- 
ness of  the  boards  by  pulling  one  of  the  steel  pins 
through  and  measuring  it  to  the  rest,  and  when  we  had 
cleaned  the  wood  down  to  a  thin  shell,  we  fixed  this 
pin  in  the  center  of  our  little  island,  and  very  carefully 
cut  the  remaining  quarter  inch. 

"  Your  fingers  are  smaller,"  said  Griggs,  wiping 
his  brow.  And  it  was  up  to  me  to  lift  the  plug  from 
our  first  peep-hole. 


126  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

The  immediate  sensation  was  like  a  blow  in  the  face, 
until  we  remembered  a  back  room  would  naturally  at 
this  hour  be  shrouded  in  darkness,  and  that  not  seeing 
is  no  proof  of  not  being  able  to  see.  I  put  my  finger 
through  and  felt  the  surface  of  the  ornament,  and 
reassured  of  an  entirely  clear  opening,  we  whaled  in 
on  a  general  destruction  scheme.  For  it  was  better  to 
cut  separate  eyeholes  than  to  attempt  sharing  one. 

At  seven  we  sneaked  out  for  a  sandwich  and  re- 
turned, still  hungry,  to  lie  in  wait.  Both  had  forgot- 
ten the  tiff  of  the  afternoon.  Thieves  have  got  to  be 
good  pals  or  quit  cold.  I  can't  imagine  anything  need- 
ing stricter  harmony  than  grovelling  shoulder  to  shoul- 
der on  a  crackman's  job,  eating  together  in  side  streets, 
creeping  in  through  unlighted  hallways,  and  holding 
hands  in  the  dark  as  we  did  from  sheer  excitement, 
and  partly  to  still  the  beating  of  our  hearts  when  we 
saw  what  we  saw. 

The  door  opened  suddenly,  a  brilliant  oblong  showed 
beyond  the  curtains;  two  figures  entered  and  Jacobs 
strode  across  and  switched  on  the  lamp,  casting  a  pool 
of  light  in  the  center  of  the  room  and  clothing  the 
wings  with  darkness.  The  other  man  had  once  joshed 
his  host  about  a  pretty  waitress.  I  whispered  the  fact 
to  Griggs. 

They  sat  a  long  time  talking  and  drinking ;  sometimes 
they  argued,  but  we  failed  to  catch  a  word  though  we 
applied  our  ears  to  the  slots.  My  companion  showed 
signs  of  boredom,  but  Henri  was  simply  boiling  with 
excitement. 

The  butler  appeared,  spieled  his  piece,  and  disap- 
peared. And  a  moment  later  there  was  ushered  into 
the  room  with  due  pomp  and  ceremony,  an  erect,  hand- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  127 

some,  stately,  elderly  woman  —  Lady  Angelica  Deer- 
ing  as  sure  as  there  are  pearly  gates  above ! 

I  clutched  Howard  in  a  silent  spasm  and  he  shook 
me  off  as  if  I'd  bitten  him. 

"  Jove !  "  I  heard  him  murmur.     "  Jove !  " 

His  relative  sat  down  quietly  and  joined  in  the  con- 
versation. Jacobs  seemed  set  on  making  her  do  some- 
thing, and  the  other  chap  on  her  not  doing  it  —  at  least 
on  not  making  her  do  it  against  her  will.  The  argu- 
ment between  them  waxed  fast  and  furious,  but  the 
lady  never  budged.  We  could  see  her  saying  the  same 
words  over  and  over  again.  Not  a  sentence  did  we 
hear  till  the  little  fellow  grabbed  Samuel  by  the  sleeve, 
and  dragged  him  over  towards  us,  urging  his  point  in 
private. 

They  stood  right  under  the  paneling,  and  we  clapped 
our  ears  on  to  listen  madly  intrigued. 

"Put  the  whole  thing  off,"  the  man  said.  "We 
haven't  any  one  to  take  her  place.  We  daren't  risk 
it." 

"  Too  late  now  —  arrangements  are  all  made." 

I  could  imagine  Jacobs  shaking  his  bull  head,  and 
the  veins  on  his  neck  swelling. 

"  She  won't  go  till  Wednesday  —  I  doubt  if  she  goes 
then.  She  funks  it." 

"  I'll  funk  her!  "  he  growled.  "  Send  the  youngster 
down  to-morrow.  The  police  are  getting  wise  to  us, 
and  we  want  to  make  good  this  haul." 

("It's  the  same  gang  —  my  gang!"  I  whispered, 
dry  mouthed,  to  Griggs.  But  he  was  far  beyond 
speech. ) 

"  You're  wrong,  Jacobs.  Better  lie  low,  keep  the 
kid  out  of  it,  and  let  the  old  lady  get  her  nerve  back. 


128  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

She's  the  smartest  woman  we've  ever  worked  with, 
and  she  deserves  some  consideration.  Murder's  mur- 
der —  a  nasty  job.  It  wouldn't  pay  her  to  get  the 
hounds  on  her  trail  right  now.  I  doubt  if  her  family 
even  could  do  much." 

Jacobs  bit  the  end  off  a  cigar.  We  heard  his  teeth 
grind,  and  he  snarled: 

"  Nerves!  Didn't  I  hide  her  here!  How  long  does 
she  want  to  recover  from  a  bit  of  a  jar?  Mind  you, 
if  she  shot  de  Grasse,  it  don't  pay  us  to  work  with  her 
any  longer.  Murder  will  out,  and  we  aren't  so  par- 
ticular to  have  the  dogs  barking  up  our  trees  neither. 
I  can't  throw  her  down;  but  this  is  a  darned  good 
chance  to  quit. 

"Bah!"  he  added  after  a  moment's  pause.  "I 
don't  believe  it.  Any  woman  who  would  funk  the 
beach  job  hasn't  got  pluck  enough  for  shooting.  Bet- 
ter send  her  on  a  lecture  tour." 

Silence  followed. 

I  felt  so  bad  for  Griggs  I  daren't  look  at  him,  but 
just  draped  myself  around  that  peep-hole  and  kept  on 
spying  till  the  three  of  them  went  away.  Then  I  had 
to  face  about. 

The  boy  was  pacing  the  floor  with  arms  folded  and 
his  round  countenance  ashy. 

"  I've  got  to  know  more  of  this,"  was  all  he  said. 

As  a  relation  the  shoes  pinched,  and  being  guardian 
hung  her  medals  around  his  own  neck.  It  was  hor- 
rid. Thinking  of  him  in  the  dock  witnessing  against 
his  very  flesh  and  blood  gave  me  the  creeps  exactly 
as  if  we'd  been  handling  real  bones  instead  of  unearth- 
ing a  family  skeleton.  And  right  there  and  then  I 
offered  to  let  the  whole  business  slide.  But  the  Eng- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  129 

lish  aren't  snifflers.  He  wanted  to  know,  and  he  meant 
to  know.  Jacobs  had  worse  than  a  barking  dog  to 
deal  with  when  Howard  turned  serious  over  a  question 
of  their  honor. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Following  a  gray  evening  the  morning  broke  glori- 
ously golden ;  I  knew  all  about  it  from  the  start,  being 
awake  early,  that  is,  not  having  slept.  And  true  to  the 
adage,  when  we,  the  travellers,  reached  port,  rain  was 
descending  on  our  heads  in  a  steady  methodical  fash- 
ion, looking  good  for  a  week's  pour. 

Griggs  had  come  down  on  the  same  train,  but  not 
with  me,  fearing  possible  espionage.  He  hated  like 
poison  to  let  a  girl  walk  into  the  trap  alone,  but  they 
expected  a  young  woman,  and  beggars  can't  be  choos- 
ers —  much  less  detectives.  It  was  catch  as  catch  can 
for  us. 

Talk  about  cold  feet!  I  never  experienced  such  a 
sinking  as  when  I  stepped  on  to  that  bleak  platform, 
and  in  one  swift  glance  saw  my  only  ally  get  out  two 
cars  ahead,  and  walk  off  without  so  much  as  a  twist  of 
his  neck.  We  had  arranged  he  would  dodge  into  the 
station,  hire  anything  in  sight,  and  follow  the  auto- 
mobile marked  "  Millbrook  " ;  but  I  didn't  think  of  all 
this  carefully  devised  counter-plot,  as  I  stood  alone, 
crushed  by  that  uncompromising  sky.  Jimminy  Crick- 
ets! No!  The  sinking  feeling  dominated  every 
thought. 

I  was  wet,  cheerless,  in  a  blue  funk,  and  felt  a  per- 
fect ninny  of  helplessness,  not  having  an  umbrella,  and 
very  much  like  indulging  in  a  regular  cry,  a  dangerous 
mood  lasting  while  we  drove  through  the  town  streets, 

130 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  131 

mostly  obscured  by  rain,  miles  along  a  winding  road, 
and  out  to  the  sea.  From  the  instant  of  placing  my 
foot  in  the  car  I  was  lost.  A  sunless  heaven  makes 
direction  guesswork;  and  I  soon  gave  up  counting  the 
turns  and  corners.  But  of  one  thing  I  was  firmly  con- 
vinced :  we  could  not  have  embarked  at  Babylon  unless 
the  driver  acted  with  intention  to  blind  me,  which,  as 
he  took  me  for  one  of  the  gang,  seemed  futile. 

A  silly  refrain  from  an  English  song  kept  humming 
through  my  head : 

"  How  many  miles  to  Babylon  — 
Shall  we  get  there  and  back  again  ?  " 

The  grim  suggestion  in  the  last  line  annoyed  me  less 
than  the  lack  of  rhyme.  I  thought  of  the  Terrier  and 
his  poetry.  Memory  flashed  to  other  and  wilder  out- 
ings; strange  larks  in  Cobalt,  reckless  rides,  the  dark 
interior  of  mines.  And  that  night  when  Pepper  Pot 
and  I  had  fled  to  the  Victoria.  My  spirits  began  to 
rise.  After  all  it  wasn't  Clarissa  Kendall  of  the  Ritz 
Hotel,  lapped  in  luxury  and  chilled  by  the  inclemency 
of  weather,  who  was  on  this  job;  but  the  winner  of  the 
Lelland  Mine,  undertaking  another  desperate  gamble. 
Here's  to  us,  Henri ! 

Soon  I  shed  my  last  tremors  in  the  bustle  of  being 
conveyed  from  our  automobile,  and  in  observing  dock, 
boatman  and  the  lay  of  the  land  with  mind  alert  for 
clues.  Nowhere  on  all  the  flat  landscape  stretching 
behind  did  I  glimpse  Griggs  or  his  car.  He  was  play- 
ing it  safe;  but  I  had  faith  he  would  hang  on  their 
tracks  like  a  British  bulldog. 

With  a  purr  of  engines  the  two  strangers  and  I 


132  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

forged  forth  into  that  silent  void,  where  gray  heaven 
and  gray  sea  lapped  one  upon  the  other,  meaningless, 
offering  no  guidance.  The  rain  continued  falling, 
heavier  and  more  uncomfortable  than  mist,  yet  lacking 
the  dignity  of  a  smashing  storm  —  just  miserable  wet 
rain.  I  sat  for  an  hour  in  the  back  of  the  open  boat, 
wrapped  in  oilskins,  my  feet  in  a  puddle,  the  water 
sloshing  about.  We  made  slow  progress  steering 
through  the  bank  of  cloud,  with  never  a  perspective  to 
lead  from  buoy  to  buoy,  and  the  devil  of  a  weedy 
bottom  fingering  us. 

Gradually  the  ghost  of  a  lighthouse  loomed  out  of 
trailing  moisture,  and  then  a  row  of  blots  —  a  pencil 
of  darkness  on  the  horizon  —  the  bar  itself.  Blobs  of 
color  took  form  as  cottages,  and  finally  a  wharf  showed 
its  gray  streak  against  brown  grasses.  We  were 
there.  They  pointed  out  the  roof  of  the  house  on  the 
dunes  and  my  heart  beat  like  a  trip-hammer  —  what 
would  happen? 

My  guides,  philosophers  and  friends,  promptly  set- 
tled themselves  on  a  packing  case  under  a  shed  roof 
spanning  the  lower  end  of  the  dock,  and  sought  liquid 
comfort  from  a  good-sized  bottle.  Their  orders  were 
to  wait  and  they  gave  me  the  up  and  down  wondering 
why  I  hung  around. 

For  once  in  her  life  Clarissa  yearned  to  be  a  Bay- 
man,  to  smoke  a  dirty  pipe  and  linger  swopping  yarns 
with  another  human  being  —  and  then  she  turned  to 
face  the  lions. 

Board  walks,  built  level  over  the  rolling  ground 
drifted  with  sand,  or  wind  swept  above  the  tops  of 
stark  bushes,  stretched  slippery  and  uninviting  in  both 
directions.  My  way  led  to  the  shore  and  eastward. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  133 

Slowly  I  footed  it  past  the  backs  of  a  row  of  summer 
homes,  standing  now  with  all  eyes  blinded,  and  their 
hospitable  souls  turned  inward.  At  the  end  of  the  row 
civilization  made  one  valiant  effort  with  a  few  loose 
planks  and  stopped  abruptly.  I  must  choose  either  to 
scramble  through  deep  soft  sand,  overgrown  by  scrub, 
or  climb  the  dunes  to  the  beach.  And  I  chose  the 
dunes.  How  splendid  and  desolate  they  looked  lying 
seaward,  a  lumpy  line  of  unfriendly,  tousel-haired 
giants  crouching  asleep.  Coarse  fringes  of  grass  along 
their  spines  moved  in  a  breath  of  wind.  Did  you  ever 
see  a  beast  twitch  its  skin  while  dreaming?  Those 
hummocks  looked  so  alive  I  dreaded  to  wake  them. 
Shivering  weakness  flowed  through  me  —  I  wanted  to 
run.  I  did  turn,  but  the  moment  was  too  cowardly 
even  for  flight.  What  if  the  men  in  the  boat  spotted 
my  funk  and  refused  to  take  me  off? 

Between  the  devil  and  the  deep  blue  sea  I  chose  the 
sea;  and  as  soon  as  I  placed  my  heel  on  the  neck  of 
the  first  monster,  and  caught  the  air  and  the  sound  of 
open  water,  I  could  have  gone  to  the  under  world 
without  battin'  an  eye.  Only  I  was  hungry  and  very 
wet. 

There  stood  the  gray  house,  farther  back  from  the 
shore  than  the  others,  and  almost  hidden  among  the 
dunes.  Though  the  front  door  and  windows  boarded 
up  put  it  in  the  same  class  as  the  closed  cottages,  I  found 
a  little  puff  of  smoke  rising  from  the  chimney  and  cut 
across  to  the  back.  The  roll  and  crash  of  a  dead-swell 
surf  obliterated  minor  sounds,  but  I  thought  as  I 
knocked  that  a  snatch  of  song,  drunken  and  ribald, 
floated  by. 

I  knocked  again  and  again,  each  time  more  loudly, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

and  at  last  drummed  with  both  fists.  The  ground  fell 
away  toward  the  rear  of  the  house.  I  was  standing 
on  a  high  veranda  which  must  in  season  have  been  a 
kind  of  summer  kitchen.  Rags  of  faded  mosquito  net- 
ting hung  on  rusty  nails ;  dirty  cloths  littered  the  floor ; 
the  whole  place  looked  rotten.  I  had  knocked  my 
knuckles  sore  and  was  at  my  wits'  end  for  the  next 
move,  when  a  grating  and  shuffling  below  made  me 
double  over  the  banister,  peering  underneath  the  open 
steps. 

A  rough  sailor-like  head  was  thrust  cautiously  out  of 
what  might  be  called  the  cellar  door,  opening  hard  on 
the  sand. 

Crusty  but  kind,  I  doped  him. 

The  old  fellow  laid  his  fingers  on  his  lips  as  though 
warning  me,  and  beckoned.  I  slipped  quietly  down 
and  around.  We  stood  inside  a  dark  foundation  built 
out  of  rough  planks  nailed  on  posts,  and  lighted  only 
through  their  gaping  edges  where  diagonal  pieces  had 
broken  away.  Old  clothes  were  rammed  into  crev- 
asses in  the  floor,  but  they  did  not  prevent  the  sand 
from  drifting  and  piling  itself  through  the  gaps.  A 
row-boat,  bottom  side  up,  with  ropes,  buckets  and  a 
confusion  of  sea  gear  filled  one-half,  the  rest  being 
given  over  to  cases  of  booze. 

"  Not  hard  to  tell  which  side  you're  on,"  I  said,  nod- 
ding toward  the  fishing  nets,  and  I  knew  at  once  the 
old  man  was  pleased  with  even  so  little  attention. 

"  You're  the  lass  as  is  to  come  for  the  package?  "  he 
asked,  eyeing  me  keenly. 

And  I,  scared  of  giving  my  ignorance  away,  mum- 
bled some  assent. 

"  Then  I'd  not  anither  time.     This  is  no  place  for 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  135 

the  bonny  likes  of  you,"  he  remarked  calmly,  preparing 
to  lead  the  way  upstairs. 

Gripes!  If  I  couldn't  bluff  that  old  top,  how  was  I 
going  to  fare  with  the  rest  of  the  bunch ! 

We  mounted  directly  to  the  kitchen  where  the  heat 
of  a  wood  stove,  a  strong  smell  of  stale  fish,  and  sing- 
ing mingled  with  the  clink  of  glass  made  my  senses 
reel.  Something  very  very  must  be  afoot.  I  trem- 
bled with  apprehension. 

"  Come  thy  ways  in,"  said  the  sailor,  indicating  a 
chair.  "  That  is  'gin  you're  no  afraid,"  he  added,  a 
gleam  of  humour  livening  his  watery  blue  eyes,  as  a 
burst  of  filthy  language  interrupted  the  song. 

"  They're  uncu'  rough.  It  was  na  so  when  the 
muckle  woman  came  hersel'.  She  held  them  a'  in 
hand." 

Excitement  coursed  in  my  veins  for  the  last  ques- 
tion of  being  on  Jacobs's  track  vanished  in  his  refer- 
ence. Who  could  the  "  muckle  woman  "  be  but  An- 
gelica Deering,  or  the  woman  who  was  impersonating 
her  ?  —  Poor  Griggsy ! 

I  would  have  pushed  right  in,  but  he  motioned  me 
aside. 

"  Bide  ye  here,  lass.  He's  cursing  for  his  drink." 
And  twining  his  gnarled  fingers  about  the  necks  of  ten 
or  a  dozen  bottles,  the  old  chap  walked  off,  through  an 
adjoining  room  into  the  main  den. 

I  followed  hot- foot,  keen  to  see  without  being  seen ; 
and,  hiding  behind  a  flimsy  cretonne  drape,  took  a  slant 
at  the  enemy's  position. 

Gee !  The  heart  of  that  home  was  in  worse  disorder 
than  its  extremities  —  some  show !  The  furniture, 
any  old  cast-off  thing,  set  the  scene  cheaply,  and  the 


136  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

actors  seemed  to  me  more  punk  than  their  surround- 
ings. A  <lirty  table,  spattered  and  littered,  occupied 
the  middle;  and  beyond  it,  with  glass  raised  as  though 
proposing  a  toast,  wavering  slightly  on  his  feet,  stood 
the  horse-faced  man  —  the  very  man  I  had  seen  a  year 
before  closeted  with  Jacobs  in  his  elegant  apartment 
counting  powders.  Another  fellow  had  flung  himself 
on  the  couch,  partly  on  top  of  a  woman's  coat  and  a 
feathered  hat,  and  in  this  discomfort  lay  snoring.  The 
owner  of  the  tawdry  plumes,  dead  to  their  destruction, 
slumped  sidewise  on  a  wooden  seat,  paying  no  heed  to 
either  of  her  companions.  She  was  plump,  badly  over 
dressed  —  and  a  Gentile.  Quantities  of  untidy  red 
hair  set  off  a  puffy  white  skin,  while  the  unhealthy  leer 
of  fast  living  bespoke  her  station. 

Caruso  emptied  his  glass  and  attempted  to  toss  it 
behind  him,  but  the  throw  miscarried.  The  common 
heavy  tumbler  flying  from  his  uncertain  hand  like  a 
shot  out  of  a  gun  hit  the  woman.  It  fell  unharmed 
and  rolled  along  the  floor.  No  one  troubled  to  pick  it 
up.  The  hussy  understood  this  as  a  playfully  inten- 
tional stroke  and  glared  at  her  tormentor;  then  rous- 
ing she  pulled  her  dress  above  her  fat  white  knee,  and 
embracing  her  leg,  twisted  to  inspect  the  damage. 

The  man  laughed.  She  spat  back  at  him.  It  shaped 
awfully  like  a  row. 

I  quit,  crept  noiselessly  out  to  the  kitchen,  and  was 
pretending  to  warm  myself  when  the  sailor  returned. 

Sounds  of  the  gathering  quarrel  stormed  upon  us. 

"  Ay,  they're  savage,"  he  commented.  "  It's  the 
baggage.  The  master's  that  way  wi'  his  women." 
And  suddenly  he  burst  out  against  them,  shaking  his 
clenched  fist. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  137 

"  It's  easy  laffin'  but  ye'll  laff  t'ither  side  o'  ye  ugly 
faces  one  day.  Ye  muckle  liar,  ye  stammering  stirk, 
ye  owd  addle  egg!  'Twill  nob'but  serve  ye  right,  I'm 
thinking. —  I've  tholed  mair  fra  him,  lass,  than  I  ever 
thoct  to  thole  from  any  man." 

I  knew  from  the  whimper  in  the  last  words  that  he 
had  been  drinking  too. 

A  gust  of  oaths,  a  female  voice  crying,  fear  and  ma- 
lignity in  its  tone,  warned  me  to  let  them  be.  So  I 
waited  for  the  hymn  of  hate  sung  as  duetto. 

The  pleasant  family  muttered  itself  quiet  at  last,  and 
my  custodian  gave  me  the  next  cue. 

"  The  package  lies  on  the  dresser,  it's  a'  ready,  but 
ye'll  ha'  to  be  gaein'  for  it  yersel'.  They'd  no  ha'  me 
touch  the  danged  writin'." 

"  What's  it  all  about  ?  "  I  asked  casually,  thinking  in 
his  present  mood  he  might  split  on  them.  But  I  had 
underestimated  the  old  fox.  A  shrewd,  suspicious 
glance  met  mine.  Our  eyes  measured  each  other,  and 
his  fell  sulkily. 

"  I'm  sworn  to  say  nowt,"  he  replied. 

And  I  understood  whatever  the  pressure  of  his  serv- 
ice, or  his  grudge  against  the  "  Master,"  of  Jacobs's 
business  he  knew  less  than  nothing.  All  at  once  I  de- 
cided on  action.  I  walked  quickly  into  the  anteroom 
and  threw  the  curtains  wide,  seeking  with  such  positive 
action  to  ground  and  steady  my  nerves,  for  their  gentle 
entertainment  had  got  my  goat. 

Red-head  had  joined  the  other  hog  in  drunken  slum- 
ber. The  horse-faced  man  sat  alone  in  a  shuttered 
twilight  playing  patience.  He  pushed  back  as  I  en- 
tered. 

"  Ah  —  so  it's  a  pretty  devil !  " 


138  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

The  blood  flamed  into  my  face  at  his  insolence,  and 
speech  came  like  a  whistle  of  icy  air  through  clenched 
teeth. 

"  Have  you  the  paper  ready  ?  You've  been  a  long 
time  rowing  here  —  and  my  men  are  waiting." 

How  I  summoned  the  grit  to  be  high-handed  with 
him  beats  me,  but  I  had  struck  the  right  note.  His 
face  clouded,  his  dignity  dropped  to  the  level  of  a  kid 
disgraced  and  chided. 

"  How  d'ya  mean  rowin'?  " 

"  Give  me  the  papers,"  I  said  evenly. 

He  looked  up  and  smiled,  blinking  his  eyes  slowly  as 
though  seeking  a  clearer  brain  and  clearer  vision. 

"  You  almost  put  it  over,  Dew-Drop.  I  thought  for 
a  minute  it  was  the  old  woman.  Come  here !  "  reach- 
ing his  hand  across.  And  as  I  did  not  move,  adding 
pettishly,  "  Don't  stand  staring  at  me.  Come  in  —  or 
get  out ! " 

Although  my  host  spoke  glib  English  his  accent 
smacked  of  the  Fatherland,  and  the  recent  exhibition 
of  his  gallantry  to  our  gentle  sex  didn't  excite  any  wild 
longing  to  be  bombarded  with  his  style  of  bouquets. 
A  few  whirling  beer  bottles  liven  the  scene,  no  doubt, 
but  I  prefer  quiet.  From  the  minute  he  first  spoke  I 
had  only  one  idea  —  to  make  a  safe  getaway  with  or 
without  the  package.  I  stuck  to  the  errand  simply  be- 
cause I  judged  taking  the  swag  with  me  would  be  the 
surest  and  shortest  cut  to  safety.  Remember,  if  not 
walking  in  darkness  I  was  at  least  talking  in  the  dark. 
Facts  shrouded  themselves  from  me  in  a  terrible  men- 
tal fog,  through  which  light  filtered  sparingly  as  he 
talked.  I  knew  he  had  almost  come  to  terms  at  men- 
tion of  the  old  dame,  and  calculated  maybe  a  hint  of 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  139 

the  power  behind  the  throne  would  bring  him  into 
line.  At  best  I  threw  it  out  as  a  feeler. 

"  Jacobs  — "  I  began,  and  stopped  appalled. 

Black  fury  sprang  in  him.  His  open  palm  whacked 
on  the  table,  scattering  his  game  pell-mell. 

"  Damn  Jacobs !  Nothing  but  Jacobs !  I'd  like  to 
know  who's  boss  of  this  gang?  Who'd  send  a  peach- 
faced  gosling  butting  in  here  but  a  fool  like  Jacobs? 
I  suppose  you'll  get  up  on  your  high  horse,  eh,  and 
tell  me  you're  his  girl.  Hands  off,  eh?  So  —  it's 
hands  off  all  round.  Jacobs  went  against  our  advice 
in  sending  you  down.  Go  back  and  tell  him  so,  and 
see  what  a  glad  hand  he  gives  you.  Ha,  ha !  I  know 
the  weaknesses  of  Samuel  Jacobs.  Nobody's  going  to 
double-cross  me.  You  don't  get  any  papers  —  not  this 
trip,  my  Honey  Dew !  " 

I  was  in  about  as  bad  as  I  could  be  and  without  a 
notion  of  the  way  out.  Something  told  me  that  to  take 
him  at  his  word  and  try  to  break  away  would  bring 
destruction  rattling  about  my  ears.  I  prayed  then. 
There  are  moments  when  frail  humanity  has  no  other 
resource.  I  prayed  to  the  spirit  likeliest  to  send  direct 
and  immediate  help.  In  those  electric  seconds  I  fell 
back  hard  on  Henri,  and  felt  him  rise  to  the  occasion 
overpoweringly.  He  dominated  me.  Ours  was  no 
longer  a  case  of  two  minds  animating  one  body,  but 
of  one  mind  —  Henri's  mind.  He  obsessed  me  all 
right.  He  took  complete  possession.  If  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  "  manifestation  " —  a  spook  assuming  the 
form  and  features  of  the  dead  —  I  believe  at  that  mo- 
ment de  Grasse  came  as  near  to  doing  it  as  the  spiritual 
law  allows.  Whether  he  worked  some  temporary  illu- 
sive change  in  me,  or  just  wrapped  me  in  an  envelope 


140  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

of  ghostly  tissues  evoked  from  astral  space,  I  shall 
never  know,  there  not  having  been  a  mirror  handy. 
But  I  should  worry  —  the  effect  proved  potent  on  a 
drink-disordered  mind.  To  the  man  opposite  I  must 
have  assumed  literally  the  face  and  voice  of  Henri, 
otherwise  how  account  for  the  happenings  of  the  next 
ten  minutes  ?  My  own  mind  still  retained  a  conscious 
hold,  enough  to  note  the  conversation ;  but  the  smile  on 
my  face  was  de  Grasse's  smile  and  the  words  issuing 
from  my  lips  were  not  even  English  as  I  slid  into  a 
seat  facing  my  angry  host  and,  folding  my  arms, 
leaned  confidently  toward  him. 

"  Felix,  you've  got  a  bee  in  your  'bonnet  about  old 
Jacobs  —  and  if  you  two  quarrel  it's  going  to  cost  us 
much  money." 

The  stranger  ran  a  hand  over  his  brow,  gazing  at  me 
stony-eyed. 

"  Henri !  "  Gott  in  Himmel !  —  Oh,  fudge !  The 
jade  must  have  doped  my  drink!  But  you  called  me 
Felix." 

"  Have  it  your  own  way,  and  get  down  to  brass 
tacks.  The  police  are  on  —  partly.  The  local  police 
I  mean  are  on  to  this  side  game  —  the  smuggling  busi- 
ness. So  Jacobs  is  rushing  to  make  this  last  haul  good. 
When  we've  cashed  in  on  this  lot,  we'll  rest  while  the 
smoke  evaporates  —  but  from  what  I  know  we  haven't 
a  day  to  waste." 

"  Yes.  And  how  long  does  the  stuff  lie  in  Jacobs's 
place  before  he  hands  over?  Where  are  we  when  the 
time  comes?  Difficult  to  get  a  look  in,  eh  —  and  he'll 
make  it  more  difficult.  He'll  make  sure  of  the  swag 
and  then  let  our  own  particular  bull-dog  loose  —  the 
bureau  is  restless  too.  He  knows  we'd  be  too  busy 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  141 

covering  our  tracks  to  make  any  claims.  No,  I  don't 
trust  Jacobs." 

"  He  don't  let  anything  loose,  I  tell  you  —  because 
he  don't  know  anything.  Why,  his  mind's  as  innocent 
of  the  big  thing  as  a  new  born  babe's." 

"  H  —  m.  Are  you  certain?  You  know  what  hap- 
pens to  our  service  when  a  leak's  spotted  —  the  long 
arm  smites  from  some  unexpected  quarter." 

"  What  leak  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  Henri  fired 
this  at  him  quickly,  intending  to  surprise  his  secret, 
but  the  man  called  Felix  only  laughed  sneeringly. 

"  Places,  rendezvous  —  the  chain.  Don't  hoodwink 
yourself ;  it's  more  than  enough  if  they  ever  get  wise  — 
and  dear  knows  what  the  old  lady  may  have  said,  she 
was  off  her  chump  after  de  Grasse's  murder.  Where 
am  I  at?  "  He  ran  his  hand  over  his  head  in  a  dum- 
founded  sort  of  way,  gazing  at  Henri  as  though  he 
couldn't  believe  his  eyes.  I  don't  blame  him;  to  be 
looking  at  a  person,  talking  to  him,  telling  him  about 
his  own  death  would  mix  the  sanest  of  us. 

Henri  lighted  a  cigarette  cool  as  a  cucumber  and  then 
picked  a  soiled  pack  from  the  table  and  began  toying 
with  the  cards.  "  Pal,"  I  said,  "  either  you  or  I  are 
wrong  about  Jacobs  —  I'll  play  you  for  the  stake." 

"  Three  hands  of  draw." 

"  And  if  I  win  I  take  the  papers." 

He  nodded  and  we  sat  square.  The  light  being  dim. 
filtered  by  the  boarding  on  the  front  windows  I  could 
almost  feel  him  watching  us  as  I  dealt. 

The  first  fell  to  him,  for  Henri  has  a  generous  skill 
in  these  matters,  and  the  second  to  us.  My  friend 
Felix  insisted  on  opening  a  new  pack  for  the  last  hand ; 
and  while  he  was  about  it  brought  the  papers  over  and 


142  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

laid  our  stake  temptingly  between  us.  His  moving 
around  waked  the  woman.  She  sat  up,  rubbed  sleep 
away  from  badly  bloated  eyes,  and  yawned;  and  after 
she  had  got  the  focus  stared  at  me.  But  she  was  too 
well  trained  to  break  in  on  his  game.  The  room  re- 
mained in  absolute  stillness. 

"  A  pair  of  twos  beats  ace,  king,"  I  said,  reaching 
for  the  papers. 

And  to  my  amazement  he  made  no  demur;  only 
asked  cordially,  raising  the  bottle :  "  How  do  you 
take  it  —  the  same  ?  " 

I  was  shivering  from  exposure  and  nerve  strain,  and 
mighty  glad  to  accept,  even  though  the  woman  rose 
and  joined  us,  demanding  a  nip.  He  scowled. 

"  Who  were  you  playing  with?  "  I  heard  her  ask  as 
I  left. 

"  Henri  de  Grasse,"  came  the  prompt  answer. 

"Quit  your  kidding!  De  Grasse  is  planted  safe 
enough  —  I  ought  to  know.  Who's  the  skirt?" 

"  Skirt,"  he  repeated,  dazed.  "  It  was  Henri's  man- 
ner, and  Henri's  luck  —  and  she  called  me  Felix  — 
nobody  ever  called  me  Felix  —  nobody  cared  — " 

The  girl  laughed  coarsely.  "  You're  drunk,  so  you 
are,  can't  tell  a  man  from  a  woman !  "  adding  in  a 
terribly  amorous  voice,  "  You're  drunk  —  Felix." 

"Take  that,"  he  cried.  "And  leave!  Do  you 
hear  ?  Get  out  —  I'm  through !  " 

"Oh,  cut  the  comedy  stuff!  Who'll  cook  your 
victuals  if  I  clear?  " 

A  sound  of  blows  followed.  I  made  a  wild  dash 
past  the  old  sailor  snoring  beside  the  stove,  and  down 
and  out  and  away  to  an  open  place  of  decency  and 
safety. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Of  course  I  removed  the  worst  stains  and  ironed  out 
the  story  a  bit  for  Howard  —  I  had  no  call  to  wallow 
—  and  as  it  was  he  threatened  to  go  stale  on  the  whole 
business.  Didn't  approve  of  my  being  exposed  and 
all  that,  and  wanted  to  conduct  his  family  investigation 
while  leaving  the  smuggling  out.  I  couldn't  see  where 
he  was  going  to  get  off,  both  charges  being  up  to  An- 
gelica, but  one  can't  rub  disgrace  in  like  a  soothing  oil, 
so  I  muffled  the  mouth  organ  and  we  arrived  in  New 
York  without  anything  being  decided. 

I  had  saved  the  package  to  open  in  my  own  room, 
for  now  I  had  seen  my  confreres  at  home,  I  wasn't  too 
sure  what  ghastly  secret  it  might  contain,  or  how 
frightful  the  nature  of  the  job.  Several  wrappers,  tied 
and  retied,  and  an  oiled  silk  I  painstakingly  removed 
before  reaching  the  heart  of  the  matter,  and  then,  be- 
hold a  letter  —  more  directions  —  and  a  large  gold 
ring,  a  signet,  with  the  winged  snake  cut  in  reverse. 

I  looked  inside  the  windings  again  to  see  if  there  was 
a  child's  rubber  along.  Would  you  believe  it?  That 
darned  twin  incubus  haunted  me  so!  And  then  I  ex- 
amined the  ring.  It  showed  no  sign  of  opening  or 
hidden  poison  chamber,  and  for  all  I  could  find  was  an 
honest,  solid  piece  of  engraved  metal;  probably  their 
token  and  guarantee  in  the  delivery  of  goods,  the  linch- 
pin of  their  commerce  —  what  commerce?  Smug- 

143 


144 

gling,  I  believed,  with  murder  on  the  side.  We  were 
getting  in  neck  deep  too.  What  was  the  prize,  why  did 
Henri  want  to  stick  to  it,  and  would  anybody  believe 
I  was  a  self-appointed  detective  if  <he  goods  were 
found  on  me? 

My  head  hummed  with  a  dozen  disquieting  fears 
as  I  picked  up  the  letter;  but  the  directions  being  im- 
mediate and  imperative  drove  everything  else  from 
mind.  I  phoned  Howard  to  come  over  at  once,  as  he 
stood;  hustled  on  a  serviceable  plain  dress,  and  was 
waiting  for  him  downstairs  when  he  breezed  along. 

"  Jove !  Are  you  going  in  for  it  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
after  digesting  the  contents  of  the  closely  typed  letter. 

"  Sure.  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  A  busted 
flush?" 

"  But  —  to  Canada.  It's  a  bally  long  chase  this 
time.  And  you  aren't  given  any  idea  of  later  develop- 
ments." 

"  They  work  on  a  close  mouthed  system,"  I  laughed. 
"  Advance  a  step  and  ask  for  light." 

"  You  oughtn't  to  go,  and  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
go  —  on  a  moment's  notice." 

"  Pooh-pooh !  Don't  borrow  false  comfort. 
There's  no  trouble  at  all.  Toronto  is  almost  next 
door.  Leave  at  eight  and  arrive  in  the  morning  — 
only  one  night.  What  does  it  matter  where  one 
sleeps?  " 

"  Hot  stuff,  the  way  you  Americans  run  about. 
Dashing  across  the  continent  and  back,  plunging  into 
a  long  journey  without  a  second  thought." 

"Who  crossed  the  ocean  to  shoot  birdies?"  I  re- 
minded. But  he  was  unconvinced. 

"  Clarissa,    you    ought    not  —  really.     It's    a    rum 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  145 

crowd  to  be  mixed  up  with  —  for  a  girl,"  he  added, 
flushing  and  paling  as  he  thought  of  Angelica. 
"Why  not  consult  one  of  these  detective  fellows? 
Give  him  all  our  information,  wind  him  up,  keep  him 
going  —  don't  you  know  —  pay  him  to  look  sharp  — " 

"  Rot !  "  I  cut  in,  fairly  provoked.  "  That's  where 
you  English  miss  life.  Always  paying  people  to  do 
things  that  are  fine  fun  to  do  yourselves  —  garden- 
ing, for  instance,  and  breaking  horses.  If  you  think 
we're  going  to  loosen  up  on  this  adventure  now,  you 
don't  know  Henri !  " 

He  gave  me  a  startled,  wounded  look.  "  Who  in 
Christmas  is  Henri?" 

"  Nobody,"  I  said,  with  a  hollow  sort  of  laugh, 
recollecting  how  he  had  crowded  me  out  yesterday. 
"  Henri  is  a  nickname  I  have  for  myself  —  my  wild 
self.  You're  only  acquainted  with  part  of  me,  How- 
ard." I  was  cursing  my  glib  tongue. 

"  But  why  Henri?  "  he  persisted,  so  visibly  anxious 
and  upset  over  this  strange,  intimate  male,  I  suddenly 
determined  to  tell  him  the  rights  of  my  story. 

"  Look  here,"  I  said  rather  breathless.  "  If  you'll 
promise  to  treat  the  question  seriously,  not  to  howl,  or 
jeer,  or  show  that  you  think  me  stark  mad  —  I'll  tell 
you  a  mountain  of  a  secret  —  all  about  Henri." 

"Are  you  engaged,  Clarissa?"  he  asked,  just  like 
that. 

I  roared.  "  Yes,  I  am  engaged,  but  it  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  story  except  as  a  time  limit.  I'm  en- 
gaged to  start  on  a  fresh  adventure  about  seven  o'clock. 
I'm  off  to  Toronto  to  nose  out  opium,  and,  if  I'm  not  to 
miss  the  train,  let's  eat." 

"  You  have  no  business  to  go  alone." 


146  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Why  not  come  along  then  ? "  The  idea  stag- 
gered him  into  gasping  apology. 

"I  —  we  couldn't  do  it  at  home,  you  know !  " 

My  courage  needing  a  bracer  after  the  happy  little 
party  in  the  house  on  the  dunes,  I  was  more  than  glad 
to  welcome  company,  so  I  pressed  him.  "  Who'll 
be  the  wiser  anyway?  Tell  your  valet  to  keep  quiet. 
Pretend  to  have  a  cold  or  something  and  be  staying  in. 
We'll  return  day  after  to-morrow  or  the  next  day." 

"Jolly  awkward  for  you  if  it  came  out! " 

He  was  so  very,  very  pink  now  and  so  very,  very 
nice  I  almost  hugged  him. 

"  Lordy !  Who  cares !  Nobody's  watching  me  as 
close  as  that.  Be  a  sport.  Come  along,  Griggsy. 
Be  a  sport !  " 

"  I'll  dine  with  you,  if  you'll  tell  me  about  Henri," 
he  said,  begging  a  decision. 

The  great  oval  of  the  Ritz  ceiling  softly  illuminated, 
brooded  over  a  vast  expanse  of  waiting  emptiness. 
Seated  by  our  lone  under  one  protective  edge  of  the 
raised  gallery,  and  watching  our  waiter's  back  vanish 
in  long  perspective  amid  tables  and  chairs,  we  en- 
joyed a  sensation  akin  to  the  privacy  of  the  Sahara 
desert,  and  yet  I  hesitated. 

Now  it  had  come  to  the  point  of  speech  I  felt  nerv- 
ous and  genuinely  shy  about  explaining  Henri  —  al- 
most as  though  he  did  occupy  the  tender  relationship 
Griggs  obviously  anticipated.  We  sparred  a  while 
with  indifferent  topics  till  the  soup  was  served,  and 
my  vis-a-vis  dropped  into  the  silence  best  expressing 
his  receptive  mood.  If  we  were  to  get  through  the 
tale  at  all,  Clarissa  must  speak  lively.  I  determined 
to  treat  this  thing  in  an  airy  manner,  but  in  spite  of 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  147 

my  utmost  effort  seriousness  weighted  the  opening 
words. 

"  You  were  present  when  I  first  encountered  Henri 
—  and  his  other  name  is  de  Grasse." 

Then  in  a  few  sentences  I  carried  Howard  back  to 
the  afternoon  of  the  seance,  and  as  clearly  as  possible 
pictured  my  strange  experience.  I  have  never  before 
or  since  seen  any  one  so  stirred  —  so  thrilled.  Griggs 
not  only  grasped  the  situation  at  once,  but  enlarged 
upon  it.  He  bolted  with  the  bit  in  his  teeth. 

"  This  explains  you  —  this  explains  you !  I  have 
always  wondered  — " 

And  such  remarks  flung  from  rash  heights  of  gulli- 
bility, began  to  make  me  a  trifle  uneasy.  Was  I  such 
a  freak? 

He  counted  my  relations  with  de  Grasse  of  most 
vital  importance,  and  spoke  of  writing  instantly  to  cer- 
tain scientific  big-wigs.  Wanted  to  have  the  condi- 
tion published  in  scientific  papers;  wanted  to  have  me 
interviewed,  perhaps  experimented  on  —  no,  of  course, 
not  quite  that,  but  the  same  thing. 

Nix  for  little  Clarissa.  I  commenced  to  feel  about 
as  happy  as  a  pup  living  next  door  to  the  Rockefeller 
Institute. 

"  Write  what  you  will,"  I  gave  permission.  "  But 
lacking  dates,  mind,  and  no  names  mentioned.  I 
won't  stand  for  interviewing,  or  examination,  or  mi- 
croscoping  —  Henri  has  a  prejudice  against  folks  get- 
ting too  familiar." 

I  was  joshin'  to  rarefy  the  atmosphere,  but  he  took 
it  dead  serious. 

"  Perhaps  you  —  and  he  —  feel  so  now,  but  in  time, 
Clarissa,  I  trust  you  will  both  realize  of  what  tremen- 


148  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

dous  value  this  is  to  Science.  A  position  so  unique  sets 
your  price  above  rubies  —  separates  you  from  your 
kind.  Your  kind,  indeed.  Where  are  they  to  be 
found  ?  You  and  he  no  longer  belong  to  the  rank  and 
file.  It  is  stupendous  —  stupendous!  I  must  write 
to  Sir  Herbert  —  I  must  tell  Angelica  — " 

He  broke  off  short. 

"  Rave  on.  But  don't  tell  anybody,"  I  admonished. 
"  It's  not  your  funeral."  And  we  ate  in  silence  for  a 
time. 

At  last  Griggs  raised  his  head  and  regarded  me  with 
a  determined  eye. 

"  Clarissa,  I  am  going  north  —  that  is,  if  you  will 
permit  it." 

"  Good  business !  "  I  cried,  more  than  delighted. 
"  I  knew  you'd  see  me  through,  old  pal.  I  knew  you 
wouldn't  drop  for  old  Grundy !  " 

"It  is  —  not  a  question  of  form  —  now,"  he  fal- 
tered. "  Henri's  presence  —  your  recent  confidence 
alters  everything.  I  feel  it  would  not  be  right  to  allow 
you  to  proceed  alone  and  unprotected  on  —  on  this 
wild  goose  chase.  What  use  are  a  few  miserable  dol- 
lars, more  or  less,  in  the  pockets  of  the  American  gov- 
ernment! Jove!  Clarissa,  you  can't  imperil  the 
chances  of  this  research,  perhaps  the  most  important  re- 
search ever  conducted,  for  the  sake  of  catching  a  bunch 
of  smugglers  red-handed.  I  know  you  don't  under- 
stand yet  —  don't  appreciate  your  own  consequence. 
But  I  beg  of  you  to  be  careful.  Until  such  time  as  you 
awaken  to  the  vital  interest  in  these  facts  permit  me, 
my  dear  girl,  to  constitute  myself  a  —  a  sort  of  guar- 
dian — " 

That  was  too  rich  altogether! 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  149 

"  Angelica  and  me !  "  I  shouted,  limp  with  mirth. 
"  Wow !  You  mayn't  know  it,  Griggsy,  but  you're 
taking  on  a  tandem.  One's  sprinting  after  the  other 
now  —  and  Henri's  hot  under  his  collar." 

He  couldn't  help  laughing,  but  he  meant  every  word 
he  had  said,  all  the  same. 

In  the  train  I  had  time  to  explain  to  Griggs  how  I 
doped  out  Henri's  conversation  with  the  man  Felix. 
They  were  evidently  co-criminals  in  a  world  series  of 
major  and  minor  crimes;  on  one  hand  smuggling  with 
Jacobs ;  on  the  other,  leaders  or  operators  for  some  big 
organization  — "  the  bureau  " —  probably  a  foreign 
bureau,  else  why  had  they  fallen  into  familiar  foreign 
talk  ?  I  understood  now  why  Henri  had  been  ashamed 
to  take  me  into  confidence  and  had  made  me  a  sort 
of  detective  trailing  his  evil  nature. 

Griggs  proved  immensely  interested  and  helpful. 
He  vowed  their  principal  must  be  the  secret  service, 
for  it  indeed  reached  with  an  almighty  long  arm. 
The  thought  both  eased  and  damped  his  spirits. 

If  they  were  secret  service  agents,  then  the  woman 
he  was  after  might  really  be  Angelica  —  even  Lady 
Deering  could  be  almost  honorably  involved  for  her 
government. 

But  the  old  woman  at  Jacobs's,  I  reminded  him,  had 
been  up  to  her  neck  with  them  in  both  games. 

Then  he  fell  back  on  his  first  argument,  that  it 
couldn't  be  his  niece  at  all  but  just  some  one  disguised 
to  look  like  her.  And  I  suggested  perhaps  they  had 
been  putting  one  over  on  the  lady  too.  Well,  if  it 
was  Angelica,  it  must  be  secret  service.  So  we  rea- 
soned in  circles  and  finally  went  to  bed  to  hum  the 
argument  over  on  the  rail  ends  all  night  long. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Arriving  in  Toronto  I  knew  the  ropes  and  took  com- 
mand, detailing  Howard  to  taxi  straight  to  the  King 
Edward  Hotel  and  await  my  return  in  that  mezzanine 
palm  room  from  where  I  had  spied  Charley  Ross. 

The  address  on  Yonge  Street,  given  in  the  thief's 
schedule,  turned  out  to  be  a  prosperous  little  retail 
jewelry  shop,  chiefly  consisting  of  one  large  window 
and  one  small  door,  with  a  long  counter  of  show  cases 
running  up  its  interior  like  a  nicely  jointed  spine.  I 
.  walked  in  at  exactly  the  hour  appointed,  city  hall  time, 
and  spoke  to  the  only  human  on  deck,  a  man  bending 
over  a  high  account  desk  'way  up  back.  He  climbed 
down  from  his  perch  and  bustled  forward  as  though  to 
greet  a  customer.  But  when  I  handed  over  the  ring, 
at  once  my  identification  and  plausible  errand  had  any 
one  else  happened  to  be  in  the  shop,  he  said : 

"  Ah,  it  is  not  ze  old  lady  zis  time.  Welcome  mine 
goota  freund,"  and  leaned  his  arms  on  the  counter 
smiling  unctuously. 

"  You  haf  been  very  busy  lately,  eh?  " 

I  noticed  that  his  lips  did  not  move,  and  fascinated 
by  this  prison  trick,  wondering  where  and  when  and 
for  what  crime  opportunity  had  taught  it  to  him,  I 
lost  the  sense  of  the  remark  and  only  shrugged. 

Fortunately  he  took  the  reticence  as  reproof,  mur- 
muring: "We  are  here  quite  safe.  Bof  ze  boys  are 
out  to  zair  lunch.  But  Fraulein  is  wise  —  we  might 

150 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  151 

be  observed  from  ze  .windows.  I  will  ze  package  im- 
mediately bring." 

Another  package!  It  wouldn't  have  taken  Jack 
Johnson  to  knock  me  over  with  a  feather.  I  antici- 
pated starting  for  China  or  the  North  Pole. 

The  German  returned  carrying  a  box  about  twelve 
inches  long,  by  five  wide,  and  four  deep,  neatly  done 
up  in  paper.  A  jeweler's  parcel  which  any  lady  might 
have  escorted  from  his  store  without  occasioning  re- 
mark. But  he  had  removed  it  from  a  huge  safe  —  a 
safe  proportionately  fifty  times  the  size  of  his  regular 
trade.  Doubtless  safes  are  a  hobby  with  some  men 
just  as  razors  are  to  others. 

Old  Stutz,  for  so  read  the  legend  over  his  door, 
handed  the  box  to  me  with  a  considerable  flourish, 
saying,  "  Ze  letter  is  inside."  I  must  have  taken  it 
casually,  for  a  spasm  convulsed  his  florid  face,  and  he 
whispered,  "  Fraulein  understands  the  value?  " 

"  Oh,  perfectly,"  I  hastened  to  reply,  and  as  a 
woman  entered  the  shop,  added  quickly,  "  When  can  I 
call  for  my  ring?  " 

How  I  blessed  the  native  Torontorian  in  her  flat- 
heeled  shoes  and  rainy-day  hat,  as  I  made  good  my 
escape.  But  I  couldn't  help  wondering  if  she  was  a 
bona  fide  customer,  or  a  detective,  or  another  agent  of 
his  foreign  policy.  One  would  have  fancied,  from  my 
cool  manner,  that  I  received  opium  in  packages,  mas- 
querading as  the  family  spoons,  every  day;  but  my 
feet  trod  on  thin  air  all  the  same,  and  I  had  walked 
several  blocks  in  the  wrong  direction  before  I  collected 
my  scattered  wits,  and  remembered  to  board  a  down- 
town car. 

Talk  about  feeling  biggity !     I  chortled  all  the  way 


152  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

back  over  my  prowess  as  a  Sherlock  Holmes.  Report 
said  the  police  had  been  sniffing  on  these  tracks  for 
dear  knows  how  long,  and  hadn't  even  started  a  hare 
—  and  here  I  was  with  the  brush.  Wasn't  I  going 
to  show  them?  With  this  evidence,  and  the  gang's 
several  rendezvous  and  dives  to  name,  mine  would  be 
a  perfectly  splendid  beat.  But  maybe  it  would  be 
more  fun  to  give  it  to  the  newspapers  instead  of  the 
police.  Tom  could  make  a  nice  pot  of  money  out  of 
the  scoop,  if  he  handled  it  properly.  I  decided  to  give 
it  to  Tom. 

Griggs's  first  exclamation  on  meeting  rather  dashed 
my  roseate  plans.  "  Why,  how  small  it  is !  They 
can't  make  any  profit  on  that  amount !  " 

"  But  opium's  awfully  valuable,"  I  insisted. 

"  Yes  —  in  ship  loads.  Haven't  you  ever  read 
'The  Wrecker'?" 

"  Well,  maybe  there  is  more  to  come.  Maybe  the 
rest  is  cached.  The  directions  are  inside." 

"What!  Again!  This  is  growing  monotonous, 
don't  you  know.  Jolly  stupid  pastime,  Clarissa,  why 
not  throw  it  up  ?  " 

"  We  may  have  to  go  round  the  world,"  I  laughed. 
"  Jews  have  no  physical  courage.  Working  over  the 
counter  is  safe  and  inconspicuous  —  but  they  do  fol- 
low rather  close  to  form.  Suppose  you  order  a  bracer 
while  I  open  the  box." 

The  envelope  lay  on  top.  Griggs  seized  it,  and 
peeped  under  the  lid.  One  glance  was  enough  to  re- 
assure me.  There  lay  the  identical  mate  of  Jacobs's 
black  leather  cases,  looking  and  bulking  so  much  like 
the  ones  in  his  secret  closet. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  153 

"  We're  on !  "  I  crowed.  "  Let  the  police  locate  the 
cache  —  good  enough  job  for  them,  eh?  This  sample 
of  the  dope  will  serve  our  turn." 

I  looked  up  to  meet  Griggs's  eyes,  large  and  round 
and  troubled. 

"  Jove !  It's  bally  intricate !  Riding  around  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  with  strange  men  in  utterly  strange 
places  —  and  alone  —  that  is  without  me  —  without 
any  one  you  can  depend  on.  I  don't  sanction  your  go- 
ing, Clarissa,"  he  said,  handing  over  the  sheet. 

I  read  and  frowned.  "  No  mention  of  a  cache,  none 
whatever.  I  don't  see  where  all  the  anxiety  lies. 
Don't  see  what  this  leads  to ;  don't  get  why  they  are  so 
scared  and  cautious.  You  or  I  can  sneak  this  little 
shrimp  of  a  package  through  on  any  train  without  a 
qualm.  And  if  the  price  is  no  more  than  you  say,  one 
could  afford  to  pay  the  duty." 

"  We  haven't  seen  the  inside  yet.  We  are  jolly 
ignorant  of  what  it  contains.  Shall  we — " 

"  Oh,  no !  Not  here !  We'd  better  not  look  here. 
Let's  go  eat  and  think  the  matter  over." 

"  Top  hole,"  he  replied. 

Griggs  in  his  London  clothes  looked,  to  the  Canadian 
eye,  like  easy  money,  so  we  were  steered  over  to  an 
excellent  table  commanding  the  room  from  the  angle 
of  the  great  windows.  And  who  should  I  spy,  almost 
before  we  were  seated,  but  the  Terrier  and  Bully  Bill. 
I  couldn't  wait  for  them  to  change  gears  discarding 
the  menu  for  the  middle  distance  and  so  pick  up  my 
lady-like  nod.  No,  sir-ee.  I  whirled  right  across  and 
shook  their  arms  nearly  out  of  joint;  and  we  made  a 
date  for  coffee  upstairs  after  lunch.  Terry  apparently 


154  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

bore  me  no  malice.  I  dare  say  he  had  fallen  for  a 
dozen  disappointments  since  the  Lelland  —  that  is,  if 
he  was  keeping  up  to  concert  pitch. 

Being  lit  with  the  joy  of  reunion  and  a  touch  of 
regret,  for  compared  to  my  last  summer,  life  at  Doc's 
seemed  cosy  as  an  old  hen's  wing,  I  started  to  give 
Howard  a  personal  sketch  of  the  boys;  and  while  I 
talked  the  big  idea  came  alive. 

"  Howard,"  I  said,  looking  very  serious.  "  You 
are  going  to  turn  smuggler  all  by  your  lonesome,  tak- 
ing this  package  down  to-night ;  and  me  and  the  mine- 
gang  will  follow  directions  and  see  where  it  leads.  If 
we  don't  find  opium,  we'll  at  least  reap  knowledge  in 
large  quantities  —  but  for  me,  I'll  bet  on  there  being 
a  cache  somewhere  around." 

To  my  amazement  he  refused  absolutely,  point-blank. 

"  I  cannot  allow  you  to  go  on  this  —  escapade.  It's 
sheer  madness.  I  feel  I  have  a  solemn  duty  to  man- 
kind. Don't  make  it  hard  for  me,  Clarissa.  As  you 
are  at  present  —  you  and  Henri  —  your  loss  would 
be  appalling,  too  terrible  to  estimate.  Think  of  the 
scientific  world.  Why,  Jove!  You  might  never  be 
discovered  again." 

I  roared,  remembering  Cobalt,  that  large  free  place 
of  deeds.  The  tang  of  its  wild  mood,  all  do  and  dare- 
devil, keyed  me  to  adventure,  making  his  sob  of  a  sci- 
entific surrender  less  than  useless. 

"  You'll  have  to  catch  this  butterfly,  Griggsy,  before 
you  impale  her  on  a  hat  pin.  Maybe  I'm  a  specimen, 
but  I'm  human.  We  don't  deny  our  worth  as  a  frolic, 
but  we  very  much  question  the  candles.  Of  what 
value  is  science  to  us  —  except  as  a  wing-clipper?  If 
you  loved  me,  if  you  had  only  begged  me  to  forego 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  155 

the  risk  for  love  —  for  friendship  —  for  the  sake  of 
somebody.  For  something  warm  and  personal  and 
instant  —  but  for  Science  —  ha,  ha!" 

He  blushed  scarlet.  "  Clarissa,  I  do  —  I  do !  You 
know  I  care  about  your  safety  for  yourself!  Ah,  you 
take  a  man  up  so !  " 

"  For  Science  —  Science  first.  Oh,  Howard,  what 
a  drop!" 

My  friend  leaned  his  elbows  on  the  table  after  that 
bad  American  habit,  and  began  talking  fast.  His  face 
quite  submerged  itself  in  color.  He  looked  as  if  he 
had  glammed  his  courage  with  both  hands  and  was 
holding  it  rampant. 

"  You  know  I  love  you,  Clarissa,  you  know  I  do. 
I've  been  determined  to  marry  you  ever  since  —  ever 
since  you  refused  to  —  you  remember.  But  I'm  all 
balled  up  about  Angelica.  I  can't  ask  you  till  the  name 
of  Griggs  is  cleared.  And  now  you've  told  me  this 
about  —  Henri.  Why,  marrying  might  upset  it,  don't 
you  see!  I  wouldn't  be  —  Jove,  the  whole  thing's  so 
dashed  complicated !  " 

"  Science  — "  I  gasped,  striving  to  control  my  voice, 
hardly  taking  him  seriously.  But  a  shaft  of  honest 
woe,  a  glance  of  appeal  in  his  eye  shut  me  up. 

"  Look  here,"  I  said.  "  Forget  it !  Leave  every- 
thing as  it  is  till  we  settle  the  opium  business.  I  see  the 
boys  have  quit;  we'll  go  and  have  a  pow-wow  with 
them  and  start  something.  I  promise  you  I  won't 
step  an  inch  unless  they  say  we  can  pull  it  off." 

Being  unacquainted  with  the  Terrier  and  Bully, 
Griggs  rested  on  that  pledge,  but  after  five  minutes  of 
wild  huzzas  —  for  of  course  they  were  crazy  to  go  — 
he  tumbled  to  my  fraud;  and  still  laboring  under  a 


156  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

mistaken  sense  of  his  own  responsibility  commenced 
to  throw  bombs.  He  fussed  and  fumed  and  mur- 
mured and  objected,  saying  all  he  dared  before 
strangers,  trying  to  arouse  Henri  and  me  to  a  fitting 
sense  of  our  value;  and  having  no  luck  there  endeav- 
oured to  fit  himself  into  various  odd  corners  of  our 
arrangements,  cavilling  at  this  and  that  till  he  got  to 
be  a  regular  nuisance. 

Isn't  a  man  with  a  purpose  in  life  the  limit!  Spe- 
cially when  that  purpose  settles  on  an  object,  and 
you're  IT;  and  there  are  two  free  souls  standing  by, 
laughing  up  their  sleeves,  and  wondering  where  the 
professor  got  aboard? 

At  last  quite  dazed,  and  seeing  himself  completely 
lost  amid  the  threatened  hurly-burly  of  trains,  auto- 
mobiles, boats  and  guns,  let  alone  the  Canadian  wilder- 
ness, Griggs  consented  to  follow  my  original  plan,  and 
return  to  New  York  with  the  goods  on  him. 

Argument  had  wasted  valuable  time ;  Terry  hustled 
us  out.  "  You'll  have  to  look  alive  and  keep  moving, 
Clarissa,  if  we're  to  catch  the  western  express. 
Good-by,  Mr.  Griggs.  Good  luck." 

Hastily  I  handed  over  the  package,  and  Howard, 
reading  my  disappointment,  swore  not  to  open  it  till 
I  was  present.  "  You  shall  be  in  at  the  death,  old 
thing.  Cross  my  heart." 


CHAPTER  XV 

We  nearly  missed  the  train  as  it  was,  on  account 
of  me  having  to  buy  a  red  rose.  Directions  were  to 
sport  a  red  rose  as  identification,  and  of  course  there 
wasn't  a  red  rose  to  be  got  in  the  hotel  —  all  sold,  they 
declared.  And  I  hadn't  the  ghost  of  an  idea  where  a 
florist  shop  could  be  found  in  Toronto.  Seeing  our 
game  go  up  the  flue,  if  first  aid  didn't  come  at  once,  I 
called  for  help.  It  was  a  trying  moment  till  Bully  re- 
membered spotting  a  red  rose  among  the  table  decora- 
tions. He  burst  into  the  dining  room,  stole  the  trophy 
and  bore  it  off  right  under  the  nose  of  a  pompous  head- 
waiter.  Then  we  ran  for  it.  Of  course  I  had  to 
have  a  separate  taxi.  My  tickets  had  been  all  ready 
with  the  directions,  a  chair  was  reserved,  and  when 
I  had  captured  my  breath,  I  looked  around  to  size  up 
the  passengers. 

Holy  smoke!  Laugh?  Folks  must  have  thought 
the  magazine  I  held  the  funniest  out.  Every  seat  in 
that  car  was  full  and  nearly  every  traveller  wore  a  red 
rose  —  both  men  and  women.  The  girls  being  all 
young  and  well  dressed  like  me,  my  personality  sub- 
merged itself  in  the  crowd.  I  was  lost. 

The  conductor  told  me  it  was  a  wedding  party  going 
up  for  some  swell  girl's  send  off  the  next  day,  and  as 
the  bride  was  daughter  to  a  turf  king,  they  were  all 
wearing  his  color  for  luck.  Red !  I  saw  red.  Here 
was  a  pretty  how  d'ye  do. 


158  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

The  long  afternoon  wore  away  in  utter  boredom. 
One  of  the  wedding  guests  tried  to  get  up  a  conversa- 
tion with  me  on  the  strength  of  the  badge,  but  I 
snubbed  him  short  —  I  must  keep  free,  and  have  my 
eyes  on  all  sides  to  pull  out  of  this  blooming  mix-up. 
The  boys,  of  course,  were  in  a  separate  car  blissfully 
ignorant. 

About  a  half  hour  before  we  were  due,  the  train 
stopped  at  a  junction,  and  a  very  few  minutes  later  a 
short,  bandy-legged  fellow  came  through  the  car. 

"  Well,  I  be  blowed ! "  he  said,  soto  voce,  looking 
from  one  passenger  to  another  —  then  something 
seemed  to  come  over  him  —  I  saw  him  turn  green 
around  the  gills  and  spotted  him  for  my  man. 

He  went  away  and  stayed  long  enough  to  go  all 
through  the  train,  but  it  looked  as  if  our  car  had 
cornered  the  rose  market,  for  he  presently  reap- 
peared. 

Sitting  near  the  door  as  I  was  I  could  take  good 
stock  of  him.  His  quivering  nostrils  alone  betokened 
the  state  of  his  nerves.  His  shrewd  gray  eyes  shifted 
constantly  hither  and  thither.  Time  grew  short.  I 
was  sure  —  sure  enough  to  take  the  risk.  Suddenly 
I  tore  my  wilted  flower  off  and  threw  it  aside.  The 
quick  action  caught  his  glance  and  focussed  his  atten- 
tion on  me. 

"  Wouldn't  it  crimp  a  snake ! "  I  exclaimed.  I 
wanted  that  last  word  to  get  to  him. 

He  walked  on  as  though  he  were  going  to  pass, 
but  I  could  see  he  was  watching.  Then  I  made  a  bold 
move.  At  my  hand  was  the  window  glass  all  steamed 
over  from  the  chill  evening  air.  In  a  second,  with  a 
few  strong  lines  I  had  drawn  a  rough  picture  of  Henri's 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  159 

winged  sign.  Had  he  been  a  detective  instead  of  a 
confederate  —  good  night,  Clarissa! 

The  man  stopped  as  if  I  had  spoken,  and  smearing 
my  sketch  from  the  glass  with  a  rather  dirty  hand,  he 
peered  through  the  rubbed  spot. 

"  We  are  almost  there,  Madame,"  he  said. 

It  was  true.  We  were  already  steaming  into  a 
brightly  lighted  station  —  there  was  no  time  to  talk. 

"  If  you  are  on  business,  I'd  advise  you  to  dine  at 
the  Equadore  —  it's  a  good  hotel,"  he  said,  and  with- 
out more  ado  walked  away. 

I  didn't  like  him  from  the  start.  He  was  so  cold 
blooded.  An  ugly  little  shrimp,  not  too  respectful  — 
and  after  dinner  I  was  due  to  start  on  a  wild  adven- 
ture with  him.  I  shivered,  and  you  may  be  sure  I 
took  long  enough  getting  into  a  taxi  and  away,  to 
make  certain  of  the  boys  being  able  to  follow  me. 

I  carried  a  small  dressing  case  which  might  easily 
have  contained  Stutz's  package,  but  which  held  in- 
stead the  nasty  black  six-shooter  that  Terry  had  in- 
sisted on  my  taking  along.  I  noticed  my  man  eyeing 
the  bag  and  his  look  tipped  me  off  not  to  check  it  at 
the  dining  room  door.  Evidently  I  was  supposed  to 
have  that  valuable  sample  along,  and  to  cling  to  it. 
Well,  I  had  no  kick  coming  —  a  Colt  is  a  good,  steady 
friend. 

The  Equadore  was  a  medium-busy  commercial  hotel 
where  the  stranger  could  and  did  join  me  at  dinner 
without  attracting  any  undue  attention.  I  explained 
the  matter  of  the  wedding  party  to  him,  and  he  made 
no  comment.  He  seemed  a  stolid  soul. 

"  What  happened  to  the  old  lady?  "  he  asked  pres- 
ently, and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  it  was  poor  policy  to 


160  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

change  messengers  every  time.  Pretending  to  be  as 
taciturn  as  himself,  I  told  the  few  words  of  explana- 
tion I  knew  and  he  seemed  satisfied. 

When  he  had  finished  eating,  he  brushed  the  crumbs 
from  his  clothes,  reached  for  a  toothpick,  and  said  the 
car  would  be  waiting  in  front  at  nine  o'clock. 

I  strolled  into  the  lounge  where  the  boys  sat  chat- 
ting and  smoking  as  though  nothing  were  further 
from  their  minds  than  adventure.  Sitting  opposite 
trying  to  read,  I  got  to  thinking  instead;  comparing 
the  Terrier  with  his  splendid  physique,  free  life,  merry 
wit  and  kind  heart  with  the  sort  of  men  I  had  been 
meeting  in  New  York.  Even  Beaty  Swanhill,  his  soul 
set  on  money  getting,  didn't  bulk  any  too  big,  and  a 
fellow  like  Jim  Gower  showed  up  for  the  rotter  he 
was.  Money  isn't  everything,  Henri,  I  admonished; 
friendship's  a  whole  lot  —  look  at  Terry  and  Bill. 
Of  course  Griggs  had  been  pretty  true  to  me.  But 
I  couldn't  think  of  Howard  and  Terrance  together. 
They  were  both  gentlemen.  Well,  I  wanted  the  ac- 
cent on  the  last  syllable  —  Howard's  goose  was 
cooked. 

These  thoughts  didn't  intrigue  me  so  deep  as  to  for- 
get time;  prompt  on  the  stroke  of  the  hour  my  black 
bag  and  I  were  in  the  vestibule  to  find  my  escort  and 
his  motor  just  as  prompt.  Thus  I  came  to  be  tearing 
over  a  bad  road  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  with  a  thin, 
small,  alert  man  whom  I  had  known  less  than  a  few 
hours;  rushing  from  a  half  baked  city  in  Ontario  to 
the  north  shore  of  Lake  Erie,  where,  according  to  the 
latest  bulletin,  a  boat  would  be  waiting. 

Every  time  the  car  did  a  bunk  into  a  road  valley,  or 
rattled  out  on  to  the  crest  of  a  rut,  imagination  made 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  161 

a  wallop  around  the  entire  loop  of  Jacobs's  activities. 
I  had  quite  fully  made  up  my  mind  what  his  line  was. 
I  was  still  keen  on  a  cache,  though  there  had  been  no 
word  of  it.  Griggs  had  spoken  lightly  of  opium  in 
ship  loads  —  maybe  that  boat  would  be  ballasted. 

We  swayed  from  side  to  side  perilously.  We  skid- 
ded in  the  sand.  Sticks  broke  beneath  our  wheels  and 
stones  flew  out.  But  nothing  happened  to  slow  our 
pace  and  nothing  more  piquant  than  these  little  events 
interrupted  the  gallop  of  my  thoughts  —  for  the  driver 
paid  me  no  attention.  He  was  bent  on  getting  over 
the  ground  as  fast  as  chain  lightning,  and  that  though 
quite  unconscious  of  the  Terrier  and  Bully  hitting  it 
up  behind,  doing  their  own  happy  turns  on  this  poetry 
of  a  turnpike;  but  keeping  at  a  discreet  distance  until 
I  found  a  chance  to  spike  the  enemy's  guns. 

After  a  million  miles  or  so  of  flirting  with  sudden 
death  we  turned  sharp  to  the  right,  and  struck  a  single 
mud  track  leading  through  the  scrub.  Just  where- 
abouts on  the  shore  that  boat  lay  three  of  the  combined 
party  had  no  idea.  But  I  calculated,  from  the  looks 
of  things,  there  wouldn't  be  much  complication  in  the 
automobile  route.  This  road  promised  to  lead  to  the 
back  of  beyond  without  intersection ;  and  at  worst  my 
chauffeur  could  be  pressed  into  usefulness  by  the  ju- 
dicious manipulation  of  a  shooting  iron. 

On  and  on  and  on  we  sped.  Thickets  of  stunted 
trees  thinned  and  fell  away  altogether.  We  shot  over 
stony  patches  between  bare  uplands.  We  rolled  on  by 
miles  of  rock  and  blueberry  bushes,  and  finally  into 
heavier  soil  and  taller  growth. 

All  guidance  as  to  the  country  or  locality  had  to  be 
guessed  from  the  flying  edges  of  the  narrow  path,  one 


1 62  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

instant  illuminated  by  our  lamps,  the  next  whirled  into 
oblivion.  And  on  this  too  hung  the  decision  of  time 
and  place. 

Down  the  wind  came  a  strong  smell  of  water,  warning 
me  to  be  quick.  I  fumbled  for  my  hand  bag,  opened  it, 
and  leaning  far  out  on  the  side  of  the  car  thrust  my 
automatic  toward  the  wheel  and  pulled.  With  a  vi- 
cious noise  that  might  well  have  been  the  bursting  of 
an  overheated  tire,  and  a  terrible  lurch,  almost  pitch- 
ing us  to  kingdom  come,  we  settled  on  to  the  rim. 
My  driver  slowed  down  at  once,  cussing. 

I  threw  the  smoking  revolver  far  into  the  night,  and 
turned  panicky,  calling  in  alarm :  "  What  is  it  — 
help!" 

"Shut  yer  noise!  Puncture,"  he  replied;  and  go- 
ing around  to  look  at  his  wheel,  "  Now  what  in  the 
devil  did  that?" 

"  Can't  you  go  on  ?  These  are  some  roads  you  have 
in  Canada!"  I  climbed  out  and  joined  him,  for  it 
was  up  to  me  to  lengthen  our  delay. 

The  man  seemed  to  resent  that  national  dig,  and 
eyed  me  in  a  surly  sort  of  way.  And  wishing  to  re- 
establish confidence  I  offered  to  walk.  "  It's  not  far 
now,  is  it?  " 

"  Mind  your  own  business.  I'll  get  you  there." 
The  brutal  snub  set  me  thinking.  This  was  no  coun- 
try bumpkin  awed  by  an  accomplice  from  the  great 
white  city.  I  surely  felt  we  had  one  of  the  heads  of 
the  gang  to  deal  with,  and  began  to  tremble  in  my 
shoes. 

A  second  later  he  straightened,  stood  tense,  listen- 
ing, and  then  spoke  in  abrupt  command: 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  163 

"  Somebody's  coming.  We  stay  here.  Get  back 
to  the  car." 

The  drumming  of  the  boys'  automobile  could  now 
be  distinctly  heard.  My  man  would  not  give  them  a 
lead  to  the  shore  behind  his  lights,  nor  did  he  wish  to 
open  any  controversy  unless  forced.  Time  was  evi- 
dently precious.  He  squatted  to  his  tire;  but  I  could 
see  him  watching  from  ambush,  catlike,  ready  to 
spring. 

The  Terrier  and  Bully  whizzed  past  crashing 
through  underbrush.  For  a  moment  we  were  stark  in 
their  lights;  then  they  slowed  just  beyond  the  reach  of 
ours,  and  walked  back  boldly  in  the  center  of  the  road 
as  if  to  offer  help.  God  knows  it  was  a  lonely  enough 
place  to  smash,  and  to  have  left  any  one  there  in  the 
lurch  wouldn't  have  been  decent.  They  shouted,  and 
not  getting  any  answer  dipped  into  the  darkness.  Mr. 
Driver  had  spotted  a  trap  before  it  was  fairly  sprung. 
His  hand  flew  to  his  hip.  But  the  boys  were  too  swift. 
They  shot  like  bolts  out  of  the  inky  blackness  behind 
his  lamps,  and  kneeling  as  he  was  to  jack  the  wheel 
the  smuggler  hadn't  a  chance.  A  regular  mix  up  fol- 
lowed. They  fought  in  the  ditch,  smothered  by 
strong  dead  grass  and  decayed  leaves.  Fearfully  I 
heard  the  grunts  and  groans  and  the  snapping  of  dried 
wood.  Then  Bully's  voice  called  for  a  light. 

Terry  covered  their  prisoner,  while  Bully  searched 
him.  In  the  glow  of  an  electric  candle  I  could  see  his 
glance  hunting  me,  alarmed  for  what  I  was  supposed 
to  be  carrying,  and  now  mistrustful.  With  hands 
raised,  his  breath  coming  hard  and  cold  murder  in  his 
eyes,  he  was  planning.  But  he  looked  such  a  bandy- 


164  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

legged,  hopeless  shrimp  beside  the  two  giants  that  mu- 
tiny became  a  bare-faced  impertinence.  We  should 
worry ! 

"  I'm  not  going  to  damage  yon,"  the  Terrier  said 
quietly.  "  We  have  a  keen  desire  to  take  a  ride  with 
this  lady  —  and  you'll  show  the  way.  Do  you  get 
me?" 

He  shrugged.  "  It's  all  the  same  to  me.  .  I'm  paid 
to  drive  the  young  woman  out  here."  And  with  a 
short  ugly  laugh,  "  Wouldn't  like  anything  to  happen 
to  her." 

"  Nothing's  going  to  happen  to  her."  I  marvelled 
at  their  control. 

My  friends  were  a  bit  careless  with  him  on  purpose, 
as  we  walked  to  their  car,  and  he  managed  to  whisper : 

"Chuck  it  over.  I'll  make  a  break  for  it  —  you 
lose,  girl.  Why  in  hell  weren't  you  armed  ?  " 

Bully  wheeled  like  a  flash  and  covered  me  too  —  a 
magnificent  piece  of  acting.  Whether  it  would  be 
useful  or  not,  the  man  must  now  believe  me  one  of  his 
own  gang.  I  wrapped  a  smile  about  us  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

The  road  curved  again  sharply  and  ran  from  there 
a  half  mile  straight  to  the  shore,  where  it  grew  sick 
of  its  own  rottenness  and  expired  suddenly  on  the  edge 
of  a  picnic  clearing.  Logs  lay  about,  and  boards  had 
been  nailed  from  stump  to  stump  where  the  position 
of  the  trees  invited  benches.  On  one  hand  stood  a 
deserted  shanty  with  an  open  booth  for  selling  drinks. 
And  on  the  other  a  great  cairn  of  stones  surmounted 
by  a  miniature  lighthouse,  used  no  doubt  during  the 
summer  season.  Smooth  ground,  grass  grown,  cut 
an  abrupt  line  against  the  water;  and  below  this  a  clay 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  165 

bank  dropped  some  twenty  feet  or  more  to  a  stony 
beach.  We  could  hear  the  lap  of  Erie  on  her  pebbles 
as  she  lay  licking  her  lips,  mindful  even  in  a  smooth 
hour  of  her  evil  propensity  to  storm. 

Our  lamps  revealed  the  inky  surface  of  the  lake, 
and  a  flight  of  steps  leading  from  the  tufted  slope  to 
the  little  jetty  at  its  feet.  Away  at  the  end  lay  the 
promised  boat,  a  dim  form  half  hidden  in  darkness. 
No  sooner  had  our  engines  stopped  than  silence  closed 
over  and  around  us.  It  muffled  nature  in  a  blanket. 
The  place  must  have  been  miles  from  anywhere. 

Bully  jumped  out  directly  and  ran  down  on  the  pier. 
The  boatmen,  expecting  us  and  busy  getting  her  ready, 
were  taken  completely  by  surprise.  His  was  an  easy 
victory.  We  heard  faintly  the  cry,  "  Hands  up !  " 
And  soon  two  heads  and  another  one  bobbed  above 
the  bank,  as  our  ally  marshalled  his  brace  on  shore. 
He  covered  the  driver  and  these  wops,  while  Terry 
dug  some  rope  out  of  our  tonneau.  The  boys  had 
made  a  show  of  searching  me  for  arms,  and  I  was  al- 
lowed to  sit  there,  neglected,  an  onlooker,  rather  en- 
joying the  game. 

The  police  business,  thought  I,  is  mighty  easy. 
Firemen  can  put  it  over  any  risky  duty  squad  for 
courage  and  heroism.  Of  course  we  might  have  made 
a  spill  up  yonder  if  the  thug  had  pulled  a  second  too 
soon.  But  he  didn't  pull.  He  didn't  get  a  chance. 
Pistols  aren't  nearly  so  deadly  at  close  range  as  a 
knife;  and  it  would  take  a  man  with  a  cast-iron  skull 
not  to  fall  for  Bully's  fist  when  smartly  applied.  Look 
at  the  boobs  —  three  to  our  two  —  and  weren't  we 
putting  it  over  them  from  every  angle  of  the  compass! 
Once  tied  and  loaded  on  to  their  own  craft  what  a 


1 66  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

fools'  cargo  they'd  be!  Luck  ahoy!  Happy  day  Ja- 
cobs! Wait  till  we  get  loose  with  your  ballast! 

Gripes!  Right  in  the  middle  of  my  self -congratu- 
lation a  sinister  throbbing  merged  with  the  silence.  It 
tickled  my  nerves.  I  opened  my  lips  to  speak,  and 
saw  the  Terrier  drop  his  rope  end.  He  put  a  hand  to 
his  ear.  The  throbbing  grew  louder.  It  purred. 
All  of  us  could  hear  the  sound  distinctly.  It  hummed. 
Six  desperate  adventurers  stood  spellbound,  while  from 
back  along  the  road,  came  that  steady  high  power 
droning  of  another  automobile.  For  a  moment  in- 
stead of  enemies  we  felt  together  one  common  instinct 
of  self-preservation.  But  circumstances  cleft  a  nice 
division  between  hope  and  fear  —  the  smugglers  cal- 
culated they  couldn't  be  much  worse  off.  It  was  our 
turn  to  tremble. 

A  pistol  cracked  prematurely.  That  familiar  sound 
galvanized  the  Terrier. 

"  Beat  it  back  to  the  other  car,  girl !  There's  going 
to  be  trouble." 

Never  had  his  voice  rung  clearer  or  more  master- 
ful. Yet  as  I  stepped  out  on  the  far  side  from  our 
prisoners,  his  fingers  closed  over  my  wrist  like  a  vice, 
and  he  hissed: 

"  Drop !     Get  under  cover  in  the  bushes !  " 

On  our  hands  and  knees,  sheltered  from  sight  by 
the  bulk  of  the  car,  we  crawled  away  into  the  dark- 
ness. 

Bully  backed  toward  the  wharf  still  holding  the  gang 
under  menace  of  seven  deadly  shots.  The  Terrier 
called  to  him  tersely,  loudly,  in  a  foreign  tongue. 
Bully  replied.  They  spoke  Cree,  and  it  was  pretty 
sure  to  get  by  even  among  a  mixed  crowd.  These 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  167 

two  hadn't  been  knocking  around  ten  years  with  the 
redman  for  nothing.  Having  settled  their  plans, 
Bully  suddenly  disappeared  into  the  night.  I  think 
he  continued  to  hold  his  party  under  cover  —  but  who 
could  be  sure?  —  they  least  of  all.  Anyway  they 
didn't  take  liberties  with  the  possibility. 

The  smugglers  stood  for  suspense  till  a  pair  of 
headlights  glared  at  them  down  the  straight  road,  and 
then  they  got  cold  feet  and  broke  for  the  boat. 

Hardly  a  minute  later  a  flivver  bounced  into  the 
clearing  and  a  throaty  voice  —  a  voice  that  made  me 
jump  —  called  them  by  name.  Three  forms  slowly 
emerged  from  nowhere  and  gathered  in  a  family  pow- 
wow. 

"  We  were  held  up,"  the  chauffeur  explained. 
"  The  girl  and  me.  She  was  plucky  —  but  tricky. 
Maybe  she  made  a  getaway  just  now.  Those  tikes 
heard  you  coming  an'  funked  it." 

"  Himmel !  Nothing  to  be  afraid  of  she  had  not," 
the  German  jeweler  replied.  "  She  iss  an  impostor  — 
a  zeif!  I  haf  telegrams  from  New  York  zis  day  — 
but  too  late,  too  late !  "  Sobs  choked  him.  I  remem- 
bered the  unctions  laugh  and  smiled. 

A  long-drawn  whistle  expressed  bandy-leg's  sur- 
prise. "  Thought  the  dub  meant  to  let  her  run.  So 
she  was  fooling  me.  Damn ! "  Then  his  opinion 
flopped  over.  "  Why  should  she  come  here,  if  she 
had  robbed  us?  That  wouldn't  be  likely,  Stutz,  you 
know  damned  well !  " 

"  She  iss  a  government  spy.  Zey  fear  nottings. 
Poys,  zey  are  out  after  us.  Let  me  get  in  der  poat 
quickly  und  run  away.  My  business  ruined  —  my 
goot  business  —  my  peautiful  little  store!  "  He  wept. 


i68  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Zey  will  be  going  now  to  spread  ze  alarm  —  let  me 
get  away." 

"  Quit?  Not  on  your  tintype!  First  we  shut  their 
gab  —  see?  And  then  we  go  after  the  stuff.  Hustle, 
boys." 

"  Boss  told  her  to  breeze  for  the  car,"  mumbled  one 
of  his  boatmen. 

"  Cut  them  off.  They'd  be  sneaking  back  in  the 
dark  while  Stutz  came  down.  It  takes  time  to  fix  a 
tire,  though,  and,  if  they  run  on  the  rim,  we  can  easily 
shove  our  nose  along.  Hell!  It's  a  cinch!  We're 
five  to  nothing." 

Terry  had  expected  them  to  do  just  this;  act  on 
his  command  to  me  and  go  back  after  us  —  on  a  wild- 
goose  chase.  Lying  low  in  the  scrub,  not  a  stone's 
throw  from  the  speaker,  he  pinched  me  as  his  stratagem 
carried  through. 

Excited?  Possibly  we  were  just  a  suspicion  above 
our  usual  spirits;  but  so  far  I  hadn't  felt  much  afraid. 
Terry  was  equal  to  any  of  the  gang,  I  knew,  and  our 
third  hand  also  was  a  confidence  supporter  with  a 
fighting  record.  The  idea  of  Stutz  in  any  shooting 
row  made  it  a  gallery  play.  However,  the  old  Herr 
didn't  see  that  side  of  the  farce  himself,  and  proved 
very  reluctant  to  go  back  seeking  trouble.  The  cap- 
tain, my  driver,  insisted.  It  was  better,  he  said,  to 
take  a  pot  shot  at  us  from  behind,  than  make  good  their 
escape  by  water  and  land  plump  into  the  government's 
arms;  for,  of  course,  if  we  escaped  and  gave  official 
notice  of  their  having  a  boat,  every  port  would  be 
watched. 

With  that  he  took  the  wheel  and  old  Stutz  clambered 
in,  whimpering  about  his  "peautiful  pizness." 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  169 

We  waited  for  them  to  get  quite  away.  Not  till 
all  was  safely  quiet  did  Terry  draw  me  out  of  the 
bushes  and  explain  the  plan  he  had  made  with  Bill  in 
their  Indian  jabber. 

"  Looks  as  if  the  cairn  were  the  best  cover  here. 
Bully  is  going  to  swipe  their  boat.  Ah,  he  has  her 
now  —  I  hear  the  engine.  He  will  come  in  for  us 
farther  up  shore  when  things  have  quieted  down,  for 
we're  going  to  have  fun  here  yet.  They  are  due  to 
find  the  automobile  ditched  and  turn  right  back.  We 
will  go  hide  behind  the  cairn.  Its  shadow  will  pro- 
tect us  from  their  lights,  and  we  can  slip  away  from 
that  position,  easy !  " 

Walking  over  rough  ground  in  pitch-black  night, 
with  insecurity  befront  and  melodrama  behind,  and  a 
crisp  wind  newly  sprung  across  leagues  of  fresh  water 
driving  through  your  town  clothes  like  tissue  paper 
and  into  your  marrow  bones,  must  be  charged  on  the 
debit  side  of  Romance.  Under  the  above  mentioned 
disadvantages  it  took  some  fifteen  minutes,  seemingly 
as  many  years,  to  reach  the  hospitable  defence  of  piled 
rocks,  standing  on  the  highest  and  least  sheltered  ridge 
of  land.  Moreover,  our  wits  having  been  in  close 
communion  with  our  feet  during  the  pilgrimage,  we 
missed  something.  Either  preoccupation,  or  the 
change  in  the  wind,  numbed  our  ears.  Suddenly, 
without  warning  to  us,  the  road  behind  broke  into  a 
roar  of  execrations.  Shots  rang  out.  Oaths  volleyed. 
Cries,  confusion,  and  the  whirring,  whirring,  whirring 
of  machinery  beat  our  brains. 

"What  in  thunder!  Is  it  the  boat?  Have  they 
missed  the  boat  ?  Look  sharp !  " 

We  dodged  behind  the  cairn.     A  velvet  void  sur- 


i;o  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

rounded  it.  Only  the  ugly  noise  and  our  second 
senses  guided  us  at  all.  We  could  hear,  thank 
heaven!  And  the  Terrier  made  an  attempt  to  feel. 
His  hands  groped  wildly. 

"  A  door,  kid !     In  you  go." 

One  step  forward  my  shin  struck  iron.  I  yelled, 
and  shivered  clutching  at  the  jamb.  Then  taking  my 
nerve  in  both  hands  bent  cautiously  to  explore. 

"  It's  the  first  rung  of  a  spiral  stair.  Shall  I 
climb?" 

"  Glory  be  to  goodness !  Yes,"  he  cried.  "  This 
is  luck!  I  can  hold  out  here  forever  —  as  long  as 
the  cartridges  last." 

Stealthily,  hand  over  hand,  feeling  my  way  before 
taking  it,  I  made  good  up  that  ladder,  the  Terrier  press- 
ing me  close  behind.  My  fingers  struck  wood,  presently, 
and  my  head  came  out  above  a  platform  —  a  narrow 
affair,  nothing  more  than  a  shelf  bridging  half  of  the 
rude  dome,  and  too  near  the  top  for  comfort.  A  big 
light  filled  most  of  the  space  above  this.  I  crawled 
in  at  one  side  and  Terry  on  the  other.  There  was 
just  room  enough  for  us  to  sit  with  our  legs  hanging 
over.  He  struck  a  match  and  we  examined  the  in- 
terior. It  showed  only  rough  stones  and  rough 
boards,  a  shutter  closing  the  window  in  front,  and 
the  lamp  staring  at  us  with  a  hollow  eye. 

The  racket  outside  still  kept  up,  but  not  for  us  with 
such  ear-splitting  intensity.  Cased  behind  rock,  and 
mortar  and  thick  plate  glass  we  began  to  breathe  freely ; 
and  the  Terrier  gave  way  to  curiosity  concerning  our 
dumb  neighbor. 

"I  wonder  how  big  she  is.  What  candle  power? 
Do  you  suppose  there's  any  oil  ?  " 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  171 

He  pulled  the  shutter  and  found  it  slid  easily. 
"  This  joint  can't  have  been  closed  long.  Say  Clar- 
issa, I'm  going  to  light  up.  Give  them  a  shock  when 
they  come  back.  They'll  think  we  are  government, 
sure,  then  —  though  I  guess  this  burial  ground  is  run 
by  some  soft  drink,  Sunday-school  corporation." 

All  the  time  he  was  examining  her  wick,  turning  it 
up  slow  and  coaxing  her  to  burn,  the  chimes  inland 
rang  merrily.  Bullets  flew  like  hail. 

"  Bad  mess.  Coming  this  way  too.  Glad  we're 
out  of  range." 

"What  do  you  make  it?  Have  they  quarrelled 
among  themselves?  Are  they  murdering  Stutz? 
Are  they  being  chased  ?  Listen !  " 

We  could  hear  nothing  at  that  instant,  and  their 
silence  screamed  calamity.  I  sweated,  murmuring  in 
a  sort  of  mouse  squeak,  "Are  they  after  us?" 

"  Don't  know.  Show  you  in  a  minute."  The  Ter- 
rier was  busy  and  laconic  working  over  his  old  lady. 
He  had  her  fairly  going  now;  and  her  light  and  heat 
scared  my  mortal  days  from  ever  taking  any  interest  in 
the  future.  Blinded  and  baked,  yet  with  chattering 
teeth,  I  stuck  on  the  perch  and  gave  him  a  hand  with 
the  shutter. 

"  One  —  two  —  three !  " 

We  drew  it  sharply  open.  All  the  power  of  her 
great  big  glorious  soul  rushed  forth,  spreading  panic 
and  truth  below. 

The  naughty  road,  the  slovenly  park,  the  naked  jetty 
and  a  strip  of  sullen  water  cowered  under  her  long 
white  reach.  We  crowded  to  look,  and  two  great  blots 
—  the  shadows  of  our  heads,  fell  athwart  the  ghastly 
picture.  'Way  down  below,  the  smugglers'  little  fliv- 


172  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ver  was  dancing  a  war  dance  toward  the  lake,  cutting 
capers  over  stones  in  a  blistering  heel  and  toe  madness, 
while  behind,  a  brute  of  a  touring,  car  swept  along  at 
breakneck  speed,  gaining  on  them  with  every  revolu- 
tion. Our  enemies  hugged  the  cushions,  not  daring 
to  rise  and  fire,  for  they  ran  now  in  the  full  glare  of 
the  other's  electric  lamps. 

The  rackety-packety  chase  bent  away  to  the  right, 
then  swerved  and  drove  hard  on  the  shore  line,  bandy- 
legs  steering  for  a  point  beyond  the  circle  of  illumina- 
tion, where  the  murk  lay  thickest  and  the  going  must 
be  a  sad,  bad  hazard.  We  thought  they  were  beating 
it  to  get  out  of  sight;  to  duck  behind  their  own  bul- 
wark and  open  the  music  —  their  one  frantic  chance. 
We  waited  for  them  to  slow,  to  chivy  round,  to  dip 
for  shadow.  But  nothing  doing.  The  little  devil- 
driver,  with  his  jaw  set  and  his  arms  braced,  held  her 
head  straight  on  destruction.  She  rose  and  fell  like 
a  galloping  horse.  She  skimmed  from  ridge  to  ridge. 

"Great  God!  "  cried  Terry,  as  the  crazy  man's  ob- 
ject burst  upon  us.  "  He's  going  over !  —  They'll 
both  go  over !  He's  trapped  them !  " 

Suddenly  he  thrust  his  weight  against  our  light  an4 
she  tilted  back  a  fraction,  sending  a  cold  ray  after  the 
scudding  Ford.  It  was  already  on  the  brink.  It 
rocked  and  cavorted  friskily,  as  though  an  imp  had 
seized  it ;  and  in  the  same  instant  that  it  hung  over  the 
black  vacuum,  we  saw  three  forms  rise  and  jump. 
'Stutz  and  the  captain  went  down  with  their  car.  She 
leaped  into  open  air  and  somersaulted,  her  lamps  for 
one  moment  revealing  the  horror,  then  soused  into 
eternal  night. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  173 

Two  men  made  good  their  escape.  One  lay  prone. 
In  less  than  a  jiffy  the  only  life  left  on  that  silent  stage 
was  the  mile-eating  plunger  booming  along — racing 
and  tearing  —  swiftly  propelled  to  damnation.  Too 
late  to  stop?  Death  rose  and  mocked  them.  Doom 
opened  her  arms.  It  was  all  the  same  whether  they 
steered  ahead  or  turned,  for  no  weight  of  chassis 
could  hold  her  down  on  a  swing  at  such  an  angle,  and 
in  such  a  speed,  over  the  rolling  turf. 

We  held  our  breath.  The  thing  looked  alive  — 
looked  so  brave  and  beautiful  dashing  ahead  gallantly 
joshing  Fate.  She  achieved  personality.  Her  load 
became  merely  springs  and  wires  animating  disaster. 
We  trembled  and  feared  and  admired.  But  at  the 
last  minute  her  driver  lost  his  nerve.  He  twisted  her. 
Instead  of  making  a  magnificent  end  the  poor  car 
reared,  toppled,  turned  turtle  and  dropped  ignomini- 
ously,  with  a  terrific  splintering  crash,  to  the  beach 
below. 

Cries  of  pain  and  cries  of  fear,  yells,  threats,  oaths 
convulsed  the  darkness  there.  I  shivered  and  stopped 
my  ears.  But  the  Terrier  remained  gazing  out,  his 
bright  eyes  and  white  face  shining. 

"  Courage!  Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  it?  "  he 
cried.  "And  vengeance!  I  take  my  hat  off!  Un- 
less that  fellow  was  stuck  in  high  he's  a  rare  sport  — 
but  a  damned  good  kind  to  fight  shy  of  all  the  same. 
I'm  glad  his  whim  didn't  seize  him  earlier.  He  must 
have  been  in  bad  to  do  it.  This  is  no  place  for  you, 
Clarissa.  Let's  quit.  This  is  no  playground.  It's 
a  bloody  battle.  That  last  car  held  the  police." 

Erie's  high  banks  shut  us  off  from  sight  of  the 


174  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

wreck,  and  that  was  just  as  well.  Hearing  was  one 
too  many.  But  I  felt  we  ought  to  do  something  by 
way  of  rescue. 

"  And  get  a  shot  in  the  back  for  our  pains.  No,  sir ! 
The  last  car  is  a  wreck  —  but  the  first  one  went  into 
the  water  —  they  may  come  off  alive  —  we  know  at 
least  one  of  the  gang  is  free  hereabouts  to  help  them. 
We'll  leave  him  the  light.  It's  cut  and  run,  now,  while 
we  can  —  and  mighty  lucky  to  get  the  chance." 

Quickly  an  awed  girl  and  a  silent  man  climbed  down 
the  narrow  stair.  Once  started  we  had  no  difficulty 
in  reaching  the  water  edge,  for  we  just  stood  together 
and  slid  down  in  a  landslip  of  soft  clay.  The  shore 
lay  flat.  We  footed  it  for  twenty  minutes  on  pebbles 
and  hard  sand,  and  then  ventured  a  soft  coo-e-e.  No 
answer.  The  coast  changed  gradually  to  flat  stones 
and  large  boulders.  After  an  hour's  weary  scramble 
we  came  suddenly  upon  Bully  holding  the  smugglers' 
boat  off  the  rocks.  She  was  riding  in  deep  water,  but 
the  Terrier's  flash  showed  her  much  damaged  as  to 
complexion. 

"  What  delayed  you  ?  I  had  a  devil  of  a  time  mak- 
ing landing  single-handed  —  never  would  have  been 
able  to  get  in  here  except  for  the  calm." 

"  Tell  you  later.  Shove  her  off.  Lots  of  people 
around.  Nasty  mess." 

Her  engine  chugged.  We  backed  between  sharks' 
teeth,  curved  sharply,  ducked  from  side  to  side.  We 
missed  twenty  separate  and  distinct  sizes  of  sudden 
death  above  water  and  heaven  knows  what  below. 
Bully  yelled  directions  to  beat  the  band,  then  glided 
into  splendid  peace. 

"  Boost  her !  "  ordered  Terry. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  175 

He  moved  a  handle  and  we  shot  straight  out.  No 
lights  guarded  her.  Our  wake  lay  pale  to  a  clouded 
moon.  Only  the  stars,  once  in  a  while,  and  the  splash- 
ing of  mounting  waves  bore  us  company. 

After  a  while  the  Terrier  and  I  sitting  forward 
began  to  talk  of  former  days,  Cobalt,  and  our  friends, 
who  had  made  good  and  who  had  gone  under.  Ross, 
driving  away,  had  struck  it  again  on  the  Victoria  and 
was  cleaning  up  a  pile.  Doc?  —  Just  the  same. 
Jake?  —  just  the  same;  sitting  most  all  day  on  the 
porch  with  his  wicked  spurs  dangling.  I  felt  a  kind 
of  sinking  that  I  thought  was  homesickness  for  the 
wilds  and  put  it  into  words. 

"Hunger,"  pronounced  Terry.  "Me  too!  When 
you  were  in  Cobalt  you  wearied  for  fashion.  And 
certainly  a  life  of  fashion  hasn't  been  dull  if  to-night's 
jamboree  is  a  sample.  Why,  you've  had  more  excite- 
ment to-night,  Clarissa,  than  most  women  know  in  a 
lifetime." 

"  Excitement's  very  emptying.  Where  do  they  put 
on  the  dining  car?  What's  our  next  move?  " 

"  Starvation,"  he  laughed.  "  We've  got  to  lie  off 
till  morning,  run  in  where  it  looks  good  and  foot  it  to 
a  village.  There's  nothing  suspicious  about  this  party, 
but  dirty  shoes.  Besides,  it  will  take  time  for  the 
news  to  spread.  The  police  are  down  and  out. 
Thieves  don't  tell  tales,  and  we'll  keep  mum.  By  way 
of  precaution  Bully  might  go  east  while  we  visit  De- 
troit. Suppose  the  authorities  did  search  you,  there's 
not  a  thing  —  not  even  a  revolver.  Say !  What  did 
you  do  with  it?  " 

"  I  threw  it  away." 

"With  five  perfectly  good  shots!     Whew!     Your 


1 76  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

place  is  on  Fifth  Avenue,  all  right  —  or  in  the  movies. 
That  whole  road  drama  might  have  been  omitted, 
girl  —  several  hundred  feet  of  film.  Why  bust  a  tire 
and  risk  your  neck  in  the  toss,  when  you're  riding  be- 
hind a  flesh  and  blood  driver  and  holding  a  loaded 
six?" 

"  Hold  him  up !     I'd  never  have  dared." 

"  Clarissa,  you're  a  wise  one.  It  doesn't  do  for  a 
woman  to  be  too  cold  blooded."  He  beamed  at  me. 

"  Well,  there  is  nothing  in  the  boat ;  as  far  as  locat- 
ing your  imaginary  cache  goes  we'd  have  come  as  near 
it  in  our  beds.  We  have  nothing  on  us  and  —  the  po- 
lice can't  get  anything  on  us.  It  was  a  fine  idea  send- 
ing that  box  down  with  the  English  dude.  I'd  make 
away  with  the  stuff  —  burn  it  or  something  —  and 
then  keep  out.  The  criminal  action  looms  large  — 
it's  safer  to  be  out  than  in." 

"  Oh,  I  intend  to,"  I  gasped.  "  I'm  sure  Griggs 
will  holler  '  enough  '  when  he  hears  about  this.  He's 
fussy,  but  really  a  good  sort,  and  has  stood  by  me 
through  several  funny  stunts." 

With  my  head  on  my  arm  leaning  against  Terry's 
knee,  for  I  was  tired  after  our  rampage,  I  told  him 
the  story  of  the  sniff-bottle,  and  how  I  had  taken  a 
French  borrow  to  raise  my  fare  north. 

"  Decent  of  Griggs  to  keep  quiet  knowing  me  so  lit- 
tle, wasn't  it?  Not  many  would  have  been  game.'' 

"  Not  many."  The  Terrier  gazed  down  at  me,  his 
eyes  glowing,  shiny  and  warming.  "  You're  full  oi" 
pluck  —  chuck  full,  aren't  you,  little  pal  ?  " 

Something  in  his  tone,  his  glance,  pierced  my  soul. 
All  at  once  I  knew  him  the  only  person  in  the  whole 
world  who  would  ever  appeal  sufficiently  to  both  Henri 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  177 

and  me.  Little  ways,  almost  feminine  intuition,  dally- 
ing with  poetry  and  such  trifles,  on  one  side,  and  his 
recklessness,  his  dash  and  sanity  and  strength,  on  the 
other,  bound  together  by  a  bon  camaraderie  which 
never  failed  even  in  the  worst  of  weather,  had  thrown 
a  lasso  round  our  man  and  woman  instincts.  The 
look  on  his  face  now  pulled  it  tight  and  dragged  the 
maverick  to  earth.  I  wanted  to  hug  him.  I  longed 
to  be  hugged  —  me,  Clarissa  Kendall,  lady  of  the  icy 
mitt!  I  was  so  happy  I  felt  like  crying  and  so  miser- 
able I  wanted  to  laugh ;  for  of  course  this  hour  couldn't 
last  eternally.  I  knew  the  Terrier  must  be  the  most 
wonderful  companion  in  the  Universe  —  stronger, 
braver,  finer,  truer  than  all  others.  He  was  real. 
Master  in  the  fight  back  there,  and  now  —  so  under- 
standing. I  longed  for  him  to  brand  me  with  all  the 
legal  formalities  going,  and  take  over  Henri's  for- 
tune. 

Goodness  knows  what  might  have  happened,  if  hu- 
mor hadn't  leaped  to  the  rescue.  Instantly,  clearly  as 
a  living  picture,  I  saw  my  beloved  running  away  into 
the  woods  on  the  Lelland  rush.  He  was  doubled  over, 
a  canoe  rested  on  his  shoulders,  and  he  crabbed  it 
through  the  bushes  at  an  eager  pace.  It  seemed  to  me 
he  wasn't  only  hustling  to  beat  Ross  and  the  rest,  but 
was  scared  stiff,  and  happy  to  be  lighting  out  from  the 
toils  of  the  original  New  York  scalp-hunter  who  had 
hung  upon  his  track  in  Cobalt  so  persistently. 

I'll  bet  love  was  the  only  thing  the  Terrier  ever  did 
run  away  from!  But  remembering  how  he  had 
shunned  me  then  put  the  kibosh  on  sentiment  all  the 
same,  and  I  murmured,  just  to  carry  us  over  that  preg- 
nant silence: 


178  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  It  was  decent  of  Griggs." 

"  Yes.     The  man's  all  right." 

After  a  pause,  from  what  looked  like  a  miscarriage 
of  mental  telepathy,  Terry  added : 

"  But  don't  marry  him,  Clarissa.  He  isn't  your 
sort." 

"  How  do  you  know  he's  asked  me?  " 

"Oh,  he  has.  Sure  thing!  They  all  have  —  I 
don't  blame  them."  And  with  a  quizzical  smile,  "  I 
guess  I'm  the  only  one  you've  ever  known  so  far  who 
hasn't." 

"And  never  will,  eh  —  what?"  I  mimicked  laugh- 
ing, though  the  cockles  of  my  heart  went  cold. 

A  queer  spasm  of  expression  crossed  his  face. 
"  Might.  Can't  tell.  A  man  never  knows  his  luck." 

Good  old  scout.     His  luck  was  so  persistently  bad! 

"  Even  this  didn't  come  off  as  we  planned  it,"  he 
said,  finishing  my  thought  for  me.  And  then  he 
turned  very  serious. 

"  Keep  out  of  these  things,  girl,  promise  me. 
You've  got  brains,  don't  let  them  run  away  with  you. 
Fight  the  day-wasters  and  the  Broadway-bats  off  your 
hoard.  And  go  slow  on  the  wedding  bells.  When 
a  woman  marries,  she  ought  to  look  up,  not  down,  and 
there  aren't  very  many  men  can  keep  you  looking  up 
for  long." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

I  wired  Griggsy  the  hour  of  my  return,  and  he  was 
on  the  platform  to  meet  me,  tearing  his  hair. 

"  What's  new?  "  I  hailed  cheerily,  for  I  saw  the  boy 
looked  worried. 

He  opened  on  me  like  a  machine  gun.  Crack! 
R-r-r-r-r-r- !  First  blood  to  Murphy,  and  then  the 
rapid  fire. 

"  Jove !  Clarissa !  I  thought  you  would  never 
come!  I've  pictured  you  dead,  dying,  mangled, 
wounded,  cast  away  somewhere  in  the  wild  woods  — 
maybe  arrested!  I  didn't  hear  a  single  wrord  and  I 
went  pretty  nearly  crazy.  Wherever  have  you  been 
hiding?" 

"  I've  been  asleep  like  Periwinkle,"  I  laughed. 
"  Trying  to  square  myself  for  a  night's  adventure. 
Say !  It  seems  a  thousand  years !  " 

"  Jolly  awkward  for  me  left  here  —  having  the  box, 
don't  you  know,  and  not  a  ghost  of  an  idea  what  to  do 
with  the  bally  thing  —  where  to  put  it  —  how  to  pre- 
serve it." 

"  Put  it  in  your  bureau  drawer,  bonehead !  It  ain't 
worth  much."  Fuss  about  nothing  always  did  peeve 
me,  and,  moreover,  I  had  just  alighted  from  a  long 
journey. 

"  Bureau  drawer !  "  he  gasped.  "  Are  you  crazy  ? 
I've  stayed  in  bed  every  minute  of  the  time  and  nursed 
it  under  my  pillow.  I  haven't  had  proper  food  or 
sleep  —  I  could  hardly  take  a  bath.  Jackson's  an 

179 


i8o  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

excellent  valet  —  but — .  Here's  your  bally  box. 
Keep  it." 

He  whipped  the  black  case  out  of  his  inner  pocket 
and  thrust  it  on  me,  and  I  was  obliged  to  crowd  it 
aboard  in  spite  of  my  umbrella  and  bag  and  gloves. 
I  can't  think  of  anything  more  irritating. 

We  were  standing  on  the  ferry  by  then  and  a  sudden 
inspiration  to  get  even  with  him  made  me  raise  my 
hand. 

"If  the  stuff  is  such  a  bugbear,  perhaps  we'd  just 
better  throw  it  overboard  and  be  shut  of  it.  All  ready? 
Shoot." 

"  Clarissa !  "  snatching  my  arm. 

I  don't  know  whether  or  not  I  really  intended  to 
chuck  the  case  away.  I  was  sore  at  not  having  found 
any  cache,  and  determined  to  go  out  of  detective  work. 
This  was  quick  and  simple.  Besides  Griggs  was  rais- 
ing such  an  unheard-of  fuss.  It  didn't  matter,  how- 
ever, for  his  arm  action  controlled  mine.  The  thing 
went  flying  out  of  my  hand,  struck  the  rail,  and  rico- 
chetted  on  to  a  heap  of  coal  that  was  being  run  through 
to  the  hold.  Howard  in  his  light  tweeds  made  a  leap 
for  it.  His  foot  struck  the  open  cover  and  he 
sprawled.  Everybody  roared,  and  no  one  seemed  to 
realize  his  object.  The  grimy  giant  shovelling  wiped 
the  grin  from  his  Irish  mug  and  stuck  his  spade  deeper. 
A  soft  shower  followed  instantly.  But  Griggs  was 
on  his  feet  again,  and  down  the  chute  like  a  flash. 
Mirth  turned  to  consternation  at  his  disappearance. 
The  deck  hands  got  wise  to  something  valuable  hav- 
ing been  lost  and  did  their  level  best  to  stem  the  steady 
flow  of  coal  from  the  carts,  but  it  was  impossible  to 
back  water  quick  enough.  My  escort  came  up  against 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  181 

a  scattered  bombardment.  He  stood  erect,  dancing  a 
Highland  fling  to  keep  his  footing,  and  gradually  sink- 
ing as  the  yielding  mass  below  gave  under  his  weight. 
In  a  half  minute  he  had  sunk  from  his  waistband  to 
near  his  chest.  Fellow  passengers  tugged  on  his  arms, 
too  weak  with  laughter  to  raise  him.  And  I  sat  limp. 

At  last  the  darkey  driver  climbed  out  of  his  cart 
and  rammed  one  of  his  tail-boards  down  the  hole  on 
an  incline.  Up  this,  with  much  assistance,  poor 
Griggs  scrambled.  He  was  quite  white  about  the  face, 
barring  streaks,  and  very  black  about  his  pants.  But 
he  held  the  cherished  package,  and  continued  to  hold 
it,  not  deeming  me  in  my  sane  senses. 

"  Why  didn't  you  smoke  the  stuff  while  you  were  in 
bed,  and  have  a  good  time?  "  I  asked  spitefully. 

A  dawning  amazement  kindled  his  eyes.  "  Haven't 
you  seen  the  papers?  " 

"  Not  a  one.  I've  been  in  bed  too,  but  I  had  rea- 
son." 

I  was  ready  to  launch  at  once  into  the  terrific  story 
of  real  night  life,  but  the  boy  cut  me  off  short. 

"Wait!" 

He  hurried  away  and  after  a  wild  tour  of  unoc- 
cupied seats  ran  a  daily  to  earth.  This  he  handed  me 
folded  in  half.  It  was  a  Hearst  paper  and  bore  the 
day's  sensation  in  enormous  letters  right  across  the 
top: 

UNITED  STATES  ROBBED  OF  MILLIONS 
GANG  OF  SMUGGLERS  TAKEN  RED  HANDED  —  FIGHT 

POLICE 

Detectives  Working  Diamond  Clues  Make  a 
Smashing  Finish. 


182  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

("  They  did,"  I  murmured.) 

Big  fight  on  Canadian  Border.     Three  killed.  Gov- 
ernment Officer  Wounded.     Two  Arrests. 
Boatman  Turns  King's  Evidence. 

GIRL  ROBBER  ROBS  THE  ROBBERS 
WHERE  ARE  THE  DIAMONDS  ? 

I  knew  the  answer  to  that  question.  In  Howard 
Griggs's  inner  pocket.  And  five  minutes  before  they 
had  been  down  an  Erie  Ferry  coal-hole ! 

"  You'll  lunch  with  me  at  the  Ritz  ?  Is  your  car 
waiting?"  I  felt  weak  about  the  knees. 

Looking  back  it  seems  this  tale  is  one  continual  per- 
formance of  meals,  Griggs  and  I  vis-a-vis.  But  what 
can  you  do  with  a  story  of  New  York  life  and  have  it 
life-like.  We  ordered  three  courses  served  upstairs, 
and  ensconced  ourselves  with  the  latest  copy  of  every 
local  newspaper  piled  around.  There  I  told  of  our 
wild  night.  How  the  boys  had  chased  Bandy-legs  and 
sprung  their  trap.  And  the  smugglers  getting  wise 
had  come  flying  after  me.  And  how  the  Government 
had  swooped  down  on  the  lot  and  been  decoyed  into 
a  cold  bath.  Take  it  from  me,  on  top  of  my  version, 
the  Evening  Journals'  read  tame.  They  gave  us  a 
quantity  of  information  on  minor  points  —  things  it 
is  well  to  know.  For  instance :  that  diamonds  are  al- 
ways packed  in  paper,  folded  like  a  powder.  I  sat  up. 

"  Ah,  Jacobs !  You're  it !  Diamonds !  Say. 
Griggsy,  I  took  him  for  a  doctor  collecting  drugs  — 
ain't  I  the  simp  ?  " 

Strange  to  say  the  papers  made  no  mention  of  Ja- 
cobs, gave  not  a  hint  of  the  pawnshop,  or  the  cottage 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  183 

on  the  beach,  or  of  any  of  the  items  we  knew  so  well, 
and  which  were  really  vital.  Our  bunch  was  working 
on  the  inside  track  —  and  the  police  racing  us  neck 
and  neck  outside.  The  two  pursuits  had  come  danger- 
ously near  collision. 

Griggs,  firm  in  his  convictions,  maintained  if  I  could 
only  receive  Henri's  messages  clearer,  we  would  know 
all  there  was  to  know. 

"  Maybe  they  got  rid  of  him  because  he  knew  too 
much,"  I  suggested. 

"  Jolly  likely!  And  we're  in  a  jolly  awkward  mess 
now  because  of  him,  and  he's  got  to  get  busy  and  get 
us  out.  Nice  case,  don't  you  know,  if  anybody  found 
the  stones,  refused  to  believe  us  innocent,  and  all  that. 
Has  de  Grasse  any  remarks  to  make,  Clarissa?  " 

His  tone  sounded  haggard.  I  knew  it  was  fear 
for  Angelica  and  the  name  of  Griggs,  so  I  gave  five 
minutes  to  silent  thought,  my  spiritualistic  companion 
keeping  respectfully  in  the  background. 

By  and  by  the  winged  snake  began  to  dodge  around, 
always  with  his  little  rubber  dodging  alongside,  and 
suddenly  I  snapped  the  shutter  on  an  idea,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  develop  it  for  Howard. 

"Listen,  Griggsy!  These  sparklers  don't  belong 
to  us.  We  know  where  they  do  belong,  and  the  safe 
deal  is  to  return  them.  What  I  undertook  as  a  lark, 
or  at  best  to  hound  Henri's  murderer,  has  landed  us  in 
the  criminal  class.  '  Girl  Robber  Robs  the  Robbers ! ' 
That  makes  me  feel  good!  If  I  hand  them  over  to  the 
police,  do  I  get  away  with  it?  Nix !  Too  many  ques- 
tions. Can  I  put  this  case  in  a  deposit  vault?  Every 
bank  throughout  the  country  will  be  watching  for  it. 
And  I'm  not  going  to  offer  it  board  and  lodging  here. 


184  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Don't  let's  fool  ourselves.  Jacobs  isn't  one  to  lie  down 
under  his  loss.  He'll  sic  a  search  party  on,  hot  foot, 
and  invest  enough  small  change  to  afford  milady  a 
single-trip  ticket  to  Sing  Sing.  He's  all  fitted  out  with 
the  American  court  regalia,  money  and  politics,  and 
not  a  principle  as  big  as  a  peanut  to  stumble  over. 
He  needs  to  cover  his  own  track,  also.  There's  in- 
centive for  you!  Of  course  I  can  squeal  on  him, 
make  a  horrid  noise,  but  he  don't  guess  it.  Besides 
the  public  still  calculates  smoke  rises  from  fire,  and  it's 
hard  to  reason  with  an  old-fashioned  mule.  I'd  look 
fine  trying  to  explain  Henri  to  a  grand  jury  of  New 
York  voters !  Exposure  means  dirty  work  all  around 
—  time,  trouble,  annoyance.  There's  only  one  thing 
to  be  done  then.  Dump  the  rhinestones  on  the  gang. 
We  can  breeze  out  to  the  beach,  unburden,  and  skip. 
No  call  to  leave  cards.  Probably  the  place  will  be 
deserted.  Business  as  usual  under  tbese  conditions? 
I  don't  think." 

"This  is  de  Grasse  speaking  —  marvellous!"  said 
Griggs,  with  a  rapturous  roll  of  his  eyes. 

"  My  plan  is  to  wire  for  the  Swallow.-  Board  her 
at  Ereeport.  Run  east.  Dock  five  or  ten  minutes  at 
the  bar,  and  come  away  with  clean  hands.  Who'll  be 
the  wiser?  " 

"  It's  late  in  the  year  for  boating,"  ventured  Howard. 
"  Jolly  conspicuous,  don't  you  know." 

"  You  bet  it's  conspicuous,  and  we'll  make  it  more 
so.  I  can  race  around  those  waters  every  day  for  a 
week  —  two  weeks  —  five  —  till  Christmas.  Have  a 
bee  in  my  bonnet.  Get  my  name  in  print  — '  Clarissa 
Kendall  of  the  Kendall  Mines  dippy  on  the  dashing 
wave.'  I  ought  to  be  a  reporter!  And  talking  of 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  185 

print.  We'll  tell  Tom  Landy,  afterwards,  and  warn 
him  to  clam  up.  I  was  going  to  give  him  the  dope 
anyway  for  a  scoop  —  perhaps  it's  too  risky  now." 

Griggs,  hynotized  by  the  thought  of  de  Grasse  as 
a  supernatural  agent,  hailed  the  scheme  as  a  wonder, 
and  agreed  to  come  along. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

On  Tom's  advice  we  selected  a  quiet  day  for  our 
jaunt,  at  least  it  was  quiet  in  Manhattan,  but  by  the 
time  we  arrived  on  the  south  shore  of  Long  Island, 
the  wind  was  beginning  to  whoop  it  up;  and  that's 
just  a  sample  of  how  every  detail  went  wrong  from  the 
start. 

First  calamity,  Griggs  jammed  his  foot  while  trans- 
ferring from  the  small  boat  into  the  Swallow.  He  let 
out  an  unearthly,  unEnglish  squawk,  and  we  tried  to 
persuade  him  to  go  ashore  there  and  then.  But  I 
fancy  he  was  a  bit  riled  over  having  cried,  and  he 
stuck  to  it  that  the  wound  was  a  mere  scratch.  Of 
course  we  had  to  ship  him,  against  better  judgment. 
Any  one  with  half  an  eye  could  see  he  suffered.  And 
he  would  be  a  dead  weight  in  case  of  emergency. 
Twenty  minutes  later  he  slipped  his  boot  off  and  con- 
fessed himself  on  the  shelf.  His  toes  were  swelling 
to  beat  the  band. 

Fussing  about  Howard  one  way  and  another  the 
tide  dropped  on  us.  Before  you  could  say  Jack  Robin- 
son we'd  missed  the  confounded  channel,  and  the 
Swallow  was  all  tied  up  in  grass.  It  was  my  fault. 
I  was  at  the  wheel.  But  that  didn't  make  me  any  the 
nicer  tempered.  Neither  Tom  nor  I  knew  this  shore 
for  we  had  always  played  her  off  the  Jersey  coast. 

We  reversed  and  drove  out,  and  combed  the  weeds 
from  her  gear  as  much  as  possible.  Then  Tom  said 

186 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  187 

it  would  be  madness  to  try  to  run  through  a  tricky, 
winding,  roundabout  canal  in  two  inches  of  water. 
We  must  either  go  by  the  open  ocean,  or  hunt  a  pilot, 
or  wait  for  high  tide.  Which  left  us  but  one  choice, 
for  the  last  alternatives  meant  putting  off  the  trip  till 
another  day.  After  doing  my  bit  as  guardian  of  the 
loot,  I  was  strong  on  immediate  action.  So  we  turned, 
glided  through  the  harbor,  and  launched  our  expedi- 
tion on  a  heaving  sea. 

The  Swallow's  nimble  but  she  doesn't  bulk  large, 
and  being  about  as  slim  as  they're  built  waves  can't  do 
a  thing  to  her !  The  wind  was  rising  fast.  It  would 
strike  us  harmlessly  from  behind,  going  east.  But 
we  had  to  navigate  the  bay  on  an  angle  and  poor 
Griggs  added  that  leave-me-to-die  feeling  on  top  of 
his  other  anguish.  His  measure  of  woe  was  pressed 
down  and  literally  running  over. 

I  noticed  Tom  looking  seaward  every  little  while, 
anxiously  trying  to  calculate  the  wickedness  of  a  black 
cloud  mass  piling  from  the  horizon.  Calculating  on 
sea  moods  isn't  ever  too  easy.  And  conversation 
don't  help.  I  left  him  to  figure  to  himself. 

"  How  are  we  going  to  recognize  the  place  when  we 
do  arrive? "  Howard  asked,  between  spasms.  "  I 
never  saw  so  many  houses  all  so  jolly  alike." 

"  You  voice  my  sentiments,"  I  yelled,  and  would 
have  said  more,  but  it  made  one's  head  sing  to  talk 
against  that  gale.  The  whole  shore  lay  before  us, 
linked  house  to  house,  showing  less  variety  than  a 
machine-made  chain.  It  struck  me  cold  till  I  remem- 
bered Uncle  Sam's  soldier  standing  to  the  south,  which 
had  loomed  out  as  we  neared  the  bar  from  the  other 
side.  I  consulted  Tom,  with  difficulty,  for  busting 


i88  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

my  lungs  only  made  me  sound  like  a  sick  graphophone, 
and  he  allowed  it  must  have  been  the  Fire  Island  Light. 
Soon  I  spied  a  gray  finger  pointing  out  of  nothing, 
and  kept  the  Swallow's  head  hard  on.  She  did  the 
bird-act  all  right,  when  we  gave  her  water. 

Lickety-split  down  the  coast  at  the  height  of  my 
hobby's  power!  The  air  cut  with  a  knife  edge. 
Poor  Griggs!  What  would  it  be  going  back?  Tom 
hung  over  her  rhythmic  throb  attentive  as  a  lover  to 
his  lady's  lips.  For  me  there  was  the  intoxication  of 
speed.  To-day,  amid  pounding  seas,  and  a  gale  shov- 
ing behind,  holding  her  wheel  grew  into  a  savage  joy. 
Something  of  the  lawlessness  of  our  errand  got  into 
our  blood.  We  shouted  snatches  of  old  salt  songs, 
each  taking  his  pick  in  a  tune.  We  rioted  like  a  pair 
of  kids  pretending  to  be  bloody  pirates.  I  was  hav- 
ing a  whale  of  a  time.  I  wouldn't  have  asked  for  a 
better  half  hour,  if  only  we  had  been  out  for  the  fun 
of  the  ride,  and  Griggs  not  so  uncomfortable. 

Good  things  generally  call  a  quick  halt.  Our  knock 
came  as  we  sighted  a  gray  house  on  the  dunes,  and  I 
passed  the  word  to  stop.  Tom  put  her  engine  at  half. 
I  turned  her  nose  toward  land,  and  it  took  one  broad- 
side to  tell  us  trouble.  The  crash  of  water  hit  her  in 
the  midriff.  She  staggered.  Her  light  sides  shud- 
dered. Her  joists  groaned.  The  little  bird  straining 
bravely  slid  from  beneath  that  terrific  weight;  but 
another  would  put  her  out  of  business.  I  tugged  at 
the  stearing  gear  uselessly,  for  the  tide  had  us  and 
its  ebb  was  strong.  A  second  mountain  rose,  towered 
—  and  Tom's  iron  hand  fell  on  mine.  He  seemed  to 
be  dragging  the  whole  bottom  out  of  the  ocean,  but  he 
turned  her  wheel  over.  The  lump  of  a  wave  vanished, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  189 

flowing  under  our  keel,  lifting  instead  of  swamping  us. 
I  pushed  the  high  speed  and  we  leaped  ahead.  The 
beach  with  its  landmarks  whirled  away  on  our  left. 

Tom  sprang  back  to  his  engine  and  stood  calling 
directions.  His  voice  sailed  to  me  like  a  trumpet 
note. 

"See  that  line  of  foam  on  the  starboard?  She's 
chewing  the  rag  there.  It  means  sand.  At  low  water 
that  bar  will  break  the  surf.  Keep  inside  and  you'll 
find  shelter." 

"  We've  passed  the  place.  There !  "  I  cried,  point- 
ing backward.  A  gray  cottage  flashed  into  sunshine 
and  fell  cold  and  cheerless  again  as  the  rift  in  the 
clouds  above  it  closed.  No  smoke  curled  from  the 
chimney. 

We  spun  on.  I  knew  how  fast  my  Swallow  trav- 
elled, and  began  to  worry.  The  fortune,  securely  car- 
ried in  a  camera  case  slung  beneath  my  coat,  nagged 
me  every  time  I  moved.  I  was  anxious  to  be  quit  of 
it  —  but  how  to  land  ?  Where  to  land,  in  that  welter 
of  pounding  surf? 

"  Port  your  helm !  "  roared  Tom. 

I  jumped.  Most  unexpectedly  the  bars  we  were 
skimming  between  curved.  The  south  shore  widened, 
sparsely  covered  with  grass;  and  the  sea  narrowed  to 
a  deep  channel  sweeping  inland.  The  long  point  of 
Fire  Island  protected  us  on  one  side,  while  our  goal 
lay  open  on  the  other.  We  followed  around,  and  two 
miles  perhaps  beyond  our  object,  slowed  up  in  com- 
parative safety.  Tom  dropped  anchor  near  shore  and 
prepared  to  carry  me  off. 

Then  arose  problem  three-hundred-and-sixty-nine. 
Criggs  had  joined  the  party  for  the  express  purpose  of 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

accompanying  me  to  the  dunes.  We  had  touched  on 
scientific  value  once  or  twice  while  discussing  plans; 
but  he  didn't  have  to  argue  half  so  hard  this  time. 
Knowing  all  I  knew  about  the  interior  of  Jacobs's 
menagerie  I  made  no  bones  about  accepting  escort. 
I'd  have  taken  an  armed  guard  with  delight.  How- 
ever jammed  toes  and  nausea  are  poor  preparation 
for  a  big  adventure.  We  excused  Howard  from  the 
lists.  The  question  on  the  carpet  was  whether  Tom 
would  step  along  with  me  or  remain  by  the  boat. 

We  all  wanted  it  to  be  both  ways,  and  that  set  the 
programme  for  a  peach  of  a  wrangle.  I  desired  Tom's 
company.  Heaven  witness!  I  yearned  for  his 
strong  right  arm.  But  I  wouldn't  consent  to  leave 
the  boat  to  Howard,  who  doesn't  know  a  thing  about 
engines;  nor  Howard  to  the  Swallow,  considering  the 
high  wind,  the  choppy  sea,  and  the  devilishness  of 
Fate.  Griggs  gnashed  his  teeth  ove«-  risking  the  scien- 
tific possibilities  hid  in  de  Grasse  and  me  on  another 
wild-goose  chase.  But  all  the  same,  he'd  as  soon  have 
crawled  along  on  his  wounded  anatomy  as  have  stayed 
in  the  boat  alone.  Tom  said  he  hated  to  have  me  walk 
back  that  two  miles  against  a  tearing  wind.  He 
argued  for  comfort,  not  dreaming  of  any  gamble  on 
safety,  and  let  it  be  clearly  seen  that  he  thought  the 
Swallow  and  Howard  mismated. 

One  can't  explain  the  ins  and  outs  of  a  delicate  situ- 
ation to  a  man  wading  above  his  knees,  ready  to  carry 
one  to  shore,  and  the  thermometer  at  fifty. 

"  Maybe  you  aren't  saving  me  from  cold  feet, 
Tom,"  I  said,  as  he  took  me  in  his  arms. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  he  answered  cheerily,  ac- 
cepting the  obvious  meaning  of  my  words.  "  Your 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  191 

friend's  a  dub  in  a  boat,  Miss  Clarissa  —  a  regular 
landlubber.  They'd  go  to  the  bottom  together,  sure, 
if  we  left  them  at  large." 

As  I  watched  him  climb  back  into  the  Swalloiv,  his 
wet  legs  gleaming  against  her  black  sides,  it  occurred 
to  me  I  might  have  sent  Tom  with  the  package  and 
have  stayed  aboard  myself.  But  I  was  too  proud  to 
show  the  white  feather  at  that  late  date.  Instead,  I 
had  an  inspiration  and  called  to  him  through  cupped 
hands : 

"  Try  if  you  can  make  it  through  the  channel  and 
moor  at  the  dock  on  the  bay  side.  I  landed  there  once. 
It's  deep  water.  It  will  save  me  —  the  walk  —  back." 

"  Why  can't  we  take  you  around,  then  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head.  "  You  may  not  be  able  to  run 
through.  We  can't  afford  to  waste  time.  I'm  off." 

I  reckoned  the  Swallow  had  done  about  four  miles 
in  her  last  ten  minutes  and  walking  back  to  that  cot- 
tage, which  must  have  been  half  way,  was  likely  to  be 
some  little  stunt.  I  was  surprised  to  find  the  going 
easy  —  I  had  started  on  a  sheltered  end  of  the  beach, 
and  didn't  allow  for  it.  I  skimmed  along,  feeling 
keyed  up,  full  of  energy,  fresh  charged  by  a  dash 
through  wind  and  spray,  that  must  have  awakened 
the  spirits  of  a  mouse.  I  ran.  I  walked.  I  played 
at  being  a  speed  boat.  I  licked  up  the  distance,  till, 
suddenly  rounding  a  point,  the  full  force  of  a  rip- 
splitting  gale  hurled  me  back.  It  wrapped  my  skirts 
about  my  knees  and  held  me  so,  drenching  me  with 
salt  water.  Lot's  wife  had  nothing  on  me  as  a  help- 
less pillar  of  brine.  And  then  the  wind  unlashed  me 
and  prepared  to  play  other  pranks.  Just  to  brace 
against  it  took  all  my  effort.  I  labored  sidewise, 


192  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

panting,  and  gained  a  partial  shelter  among  the  dunes. 

Here  it  was  possible  to  work  forward  in  stages.  I 
had  peace  at  least  dodging  from  hummock  to  hum- 
mock, though  the  wind  roared  between.  The  sea 
made  a  tremendous  noise.  I  couldn't  hear  my  own 
voice.  Some  places  I  was  obliged  to  climb  over  the 
dunes,  and  the  up  and  down  ate  into  time.  And  worst 
of  all,  the  sand  began  to  blow  off  them  in  great  sting- 
ing clouds.  When  one  of  these  gusts  swirled  down 
on  me,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  grit  my  teeth,  shut 
my  eyes,  and  hold  my  head  low  against  it.  Sunshine 
flashed  over  the  scene,  and  gave  way  to  shadow, 
glowed  brightly,  and  faded.  The  two  played  tag  up 
and  down  the  beach. 

"  Jumpin'  Jimminy !  "  I  cried.  "  Why  go  to  Egypt 
to  enjoy  sand?"  And  the  storm  caught  my  words 
and  whisked  them  away  so  I  might  as  well  have  been 
speaking  to  deaf  ears.  This  gave  me  an  uncanny  feel- 
ing. 

In  spells  it  seemed  as  if  I  just  stood  there  and  pawed 
the  atmosphere  with  my  hands  and  feet,  locomotion 
not  getting  an  inch  forwarder.  But  I  must  have  been 
moving  all  the  time,  because,  finally,  I  came  over  one 
of  the  dunes  into  full  view  of  the  house.  The  wind 
abated  at  that  minute,  and  in  the  lull  I  slid  down  the 
sloping  sandbank,  and  sat  considering,  trying  to  catch 
up  with  my  breath,  wondering  what  next?  Sand  was 
swirling  around  the  cottage,  and  the  sun  shone  out 
making  all  those  crazy  particles  dance  in  its  light. 
I  saw  the  picture  drifting  in  a  golden  mist  and  it 
looked  mighty  pretty. 

While  I  was  resting  there,  toying  with  admiration 
and  thinking  how  unlike  Felix  the  outside  of  his  jolly 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  193 

little  shack  appeared,  the  cellar  door  opened,  and  out 
popped  my  old  sailor  man.  He  carried  a  small  bundle 
in  a  red  handkerchief,  I  could  see  the  color  plainly, 
and  he  stood  blinking,  peering  this  way  and  that  as  if 
wondering  where  he  must  start  to.  Perhaps  he  saw 
me.  He  saw  something  that  scared  him.  For  all  of 
a  sudden  he  whisked  about  and  made  off  in  the  op- 
posite direction.  Trying  to  move  fast  against  the 
wind  he  looked  like  a  funny,  bent  old  crab. 

"Canned  it!"  thought  I.  "He  tholed  mair  from 
Felix  than  his  aged  nerves  could  stand.  Maybe  they're 
all  gone  and  he's  making  good  his  escape." 

The  door  was  open  anyway,  and  my  course  lay  clear. 
I  had  only  to  go  in  and  put  the  case  on  the  buffet,  or 
in  a  drawer.  Diamonds  don't  depreciate  by  lying 
around,  however,  I  intended,  if  the  place  showed  signs 
of  desertion,  to  fix  them  snug.  You  see  Henri  took 
a  loving  interest  in  that  white  treasure.  This  disposal 
was  his  idea  from  first  to  last,  and  owing  to  twinges 
in  my  upper  region  I  began  to  fear  it  had  been  evolved 
as  a  sop  to  Griggs.  Rather  than  suffer  the  actual  loss 
of  police  interferences  de  Grasse  preferred  to  hand  the 
plunder  to  confederates,  and  trust  his  wits  for  getting 
a  share  back  later. 

Cautiously  I  slipped  into  the  dark,  boarded  cellar. 
I  listened.  Silence.  Not  an  indication  of  life. 
Sneaking  into  another  person's  house  after  I  had  seen 
the  caretaker  cut  and  run  gave  me  a  curious  sensation. 
There  was  no  need  to  feel  fishy.  I  had  come  to  re- 
store, not  to  practise  deceit,  and  yet  I  felt  like  a  thief. 
My  jumpiness  was  not  fear  of  Felix  —  though  I 
loathed  meeting  the  woman.  I  knew  at  heart  Henri 
and  the  diamonds  were  more  llian  a  match  for  him. 


194  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Tiptoeing  past  the  upturned  boat  and  the  empty 
booze  cases  brought  me  to  the  heavily  built  ladder. 
Everything  was  damp,  mildewed,  swollen.  Not  a, 
sound  heralded  my  approach.  The  absolute  quiet  fell 
over  one's  spirits  cheerful  as  a  wet  blanket.  I  should 
have  been  capering  and  singing  paeans  at  missing  a 
round  with  the  family  pets.  Instead,  I  progressed 
like  a  funeral. 

If  the  cellar  felt  eerie,  the  kitchen  looked  human 
enough,  and  just  about  their  class  of  human.  It  was 
stacked  with  dirty  dishes  and  refuse  of  food.  Plates 
piled  under  the  table  and  on  the  table  gave  the  lie  to 
my  host's  absence.  Cups  and  bowls  overflowed  the 
sink.  Stew  pans  found  a  last  port  on  top  of  a  dirty 
lighted  stove  —  lighted,  mark  you!  Somebody  be- 
sides the  old  boy  must  have  been  living  here. 

I  listened  again.  Only  the  roar  of  the  surf  and  the 
wind  racketed  without. 

I  stole  through  the  anteroom  and  peered  from  be- 
hind their  cotton  drape.  Silence!  The  whole  place 
seemed  larger,  but  it  was  still  dimly  lighted.  The 
shutters  had  not  been  removed,  and  when  old  Sol  fled 
behind  a  cloud,  darkness  struggled  with  the  day  filter- 
ing through  back  windows.  The  dirty  dining-table 
stood  as  before,  blocking  my  entrance,  its  draggled 
cover  pulled  awry.  But  Felix  no  longer  swayed  be- 
hind it.  The  sense  of  space  must  have  come  from  his 
absence  —  his  and  the  rest  of  the  sweet  bunch! 
Neither  drinks,  nor  cards,  nor  chips  offered  hospital- 
ity. The  couch  was  empty  of  its  swinish  load.  Sis 
had  removed  her  hat  and  coat.  Compared  to  the  last 
set,  this  scene  was  a  heaven  of  order. 

My  glance,  eagerly  growing  accustomed  to  twilight, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  195 

wandered  back  over  the  table.  Ah!  Spread  upon  it 
lay  a  paper  —  yesterday's  Sun  —  announcing  in  large 
type:  DIAMOND  SMUGGLER  TRACKED,  and 
right  below  this  presenting  the  picture  of  the  horse- 
faced  man.  Peach  of  a  portrait,  too!  Felix's  grim 
mouth,  hawk  beak  and  stony  eyes  to  the  life! 

I  went  quickly  forward.  I  felt  at  home  and  sure 
of  myself  now  they  were  gone.  I  wanted  to  see  that 
picture. 

God!  There  on  the  floor,  his  body  hidden  by  the 
dirty  cloth,  lay  the  man  himself.  An  ashy  human  face 
stared  up  at  me  —  the  spittin'.  image  of  that  newspaper 
face  staring  from  the  table  —  about  the  same  color 
too!  Cold  fear  clutched  my  heart.  Did  you  ever  in 
your  dreams  keep  on  standing  in  a  spot  you  knew  was 
hell,  from  lack  of  power  to  move  away?  I  stood  like 
that,  watching  his  eyes  glaze,  watching  him  die.  He 
plucked  at  the  crex  rug.  He  gurgled.  His  throat 
contracted.  I  thought  he  tried  to  say  "  Henri." 

Beyond  Felix  lay  the  woman.  She  was  prone,  and 
differently  dressed  —  neater  —  but  I  recognized  her 
from  her  mop  of  red  hair.  Even  in  extremity  I  knew  a 
sensation  of  thankfulness  that  her  fat  foolish  face  re- 
mained hidden.  A  little  trickle  of  blood  oozed  out 
of  her  body.  It  started  from  underneath.  It  length- 
ened. It  ran  toward  me  —  inexpressibly  grewsome. 
Half  lying  myself,  hanging  on  the  table  open-mouthed, 
gasping,  I  watched  it,  fascinated. 

A  revolver  had  fallen  between  them.  I  noticed  a 
shred  of  bluish  smoke  floating  in  the  heavy  atmosphere 
hardly  above  the  floor.  It  swirled  weakly  from  corpse 
to  corpse.  The  wraith  of  movement  in  this  charnel 
galvanized  me.  I  looked  again,  keenly  alert.  The 


196  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

horror  was  brand  new  then!  It  must  have  happened 
while  I  sat  watching  on  the  dunes;  admiring  the  silly 
cottage  lost  in  a  golden  haze,  a  million  sunbeams  join- 
ing hands  to  drown  it.  No  wonder  the  old  chap  had 
fled! 

Theirs  was  an  easy  end  to  understand.  Caught  here 
he  had  stayed,  hoping  to  escape  the  police.  Peril 
sobered  them  at  first,  the  house  bore  evidence  of  that. 
But  they  had  quarrelled,  crazed  by  confinement,  weary 
of  being  shut  away  together  in  this  god-forsaken  place 
—  with  FEAR.  How  the  news  must  have  jangled 
his  nerves!  I  remembered  his  bullying  laugh,  and  her 
dreadful  sarcasm.  Had  she  been  a  member  of  the 
gang?  The  gang  I  was  mixed  up  with!  Or  was  she 
only  his  woman  ?  Why  in  thunder  did  any  man  have 
any  traffic  with  a  grouch  like  her?  Wondering,  I 
straightened  up.  My  mind  was  working  and  my  heart- 
strings grew  less  taut.  I  breathed.  I  moved  closer 
to  the  table,  wanting  to  see,  and  my  toe  touched  the 
sole  of  Felix's  dead  foot  sticking  beneath  it. 

Yell?  I  opened  my  head  and  let  one  holler  out  of 
me!  The  marvel  is  it  didn't  wake  them!  And  then 
I  ran.  Gee  whelikins !  I  fell  down  those  cellar  stairs. 
I  ran  as  if  fifty  million  devils  were  after  me.  I 
jumped  straight  into  the  middle  of  the  bushes,  and 
rammed  right  through,  tearing  and  ripping  the  clothes 
off  my  back ;  satisfied  with  any  conditions  that  put 
space  between  IT  and  me.  There  was  no  speed  limit. 
I  couldn't  go  fast  enough.  Once  out  of  the  gorse  I 
flew  down  those  rickety  old  plank  walks  like  flame. 
And  if  the  boat  hadn't  been  there,  I'd  have  licked  clear 
on  to  Babylon. 

But  she  was  there,  lying  off  the  end  of  the  pier,  un- 


An  ashy  human  face  stared  up  at  me 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  197 

moored,  ready.  Tom  and  Griggs  had  seen  me  com- 
ing. 

I  pounded  over  the  boards  and  jumped  in.  I 
dropped  dead  on  the  floor.  I  had  no  wind,  no  words. 
My  throat  was  parched,  my  lungs  pumping.  Condi- 
tions yelled  at  Tom  to  quit  sudden.  He  turned  her 
loose  and  sprang  for  the  wheel.  In  a  jiffy  we  were 
racing  across  the  bay. 

Those  two  were  the  sickest  boys  I've  ever  seen. 
You  must  remember  Griggs  had  only  heard  a  polite 
version  of  my  last  experience  on  the  beach  and 
Tom  knew  nothing  about  it.  But  the  fact  was  per- 
fectly evident  that  something  terrific  had  happened. 

"  We  shouldn't  have  allowed  you  to  go !  "  Howard 
kept  on  repeating.  "  We  shouldn't  have  allowed  you. 
Damn  this  foot !  "  He  got  out  the  whisky  flask  and 
made  me  drink.  He  bathed  my  face  and  hands  in 
cold  sea-water.  Both  helped. 

"  What  in  the  Sam  Hill's  wrong?  " 

"  Murder !  "  I  gasped.  "  Suicide !  "  I  couldn't 
say  anything  more,  just  lay  weakly  with  Griggs  patting 
me  and  Tom  steering  up  and  down  the  bay  not  know- 
ing where  to  go. 

We  dropped  to  low  power  and  ran  around  heeding 
neither  waves  nor  gale  till  I  recovered  breath  and 
courage  to  tell  them.  I've  never  seen  a  human  being 
more  upset  than  Howard.  Tom  was  silent  till  the  last 
word. 

"  How  long  ago  did  this  —  this  killing  happen?  " 

"  It  came  off  now,"  I  said.  "  Not  ten  minutes  ago, 
not  five.  I  saw  Felix  die." 

"  Did  yon  know  the  fellow  ?  "  asked  both  amazed. 

I  shook  my  head.     "  That's  his  name.     He's  in  the 


198  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

paper  —  his  picture.     He's  one  of  the  diamond  gang." 

Tom  whistled.     His  face  fell  into  serious  lines. 

"  I  saw  an  old  seaman  scuttle  past.  Was  it  the 
caretaker?  Jove!  Clarissa,  did  he  see  you?"  asked 
Griggs. 

"I  don't  know.  How  can  I  tell?  I  saw  him. 
Don't  pester  me  with  questions  or  I'll  cry." 

I'm  not  the  crying  kind  so  cataclysm  indicated  my 
limit.  Howard  began  to  pat  me  quietly,  and  Tom 
took  command. 

"  Well,  we'd  better  make  tracks.  We're  too  near 
this  place  for  comfort.  Townspeople  have  such  glar- 
ing memories !  Nevertheless  I'm  afraid  we  will  have 
to  storm  the  mainland.  We  can't  go  outside.  I 
daren't  attempt  to  run  up  against  this  sea.  Guess  we'll 
land  at  the  public  wharf  and  play  it  open.  Hanging 
back  won't  do  us  any  good.  The  Swallow  is  the  only 
craft  afloat  here,  and  mighty  conspicuous." 

That  was  truer  than  he  imagined.  On  the  town 
dock  we  found  a  bunch  of  old  tars,  bay -men  and  loaf- 
ers gathered  to  watch  the  speed  boat  doing  her  first 
flights  up  and  down  the  harbor.  Griggs  with  his  lame 
foot,  and  me  all  in,  as  I  was,  we  certainly  looked  a 
queer  crowd  to  be  wasting  our  time  in  such  sport. 
And  the  story  of  our  coming  from  Freeport  by  open 
ocean,  a  perfectly  crazy  lark  in  such  weather,  didn't 
help  any.  The  crowd  received  us  with  incredulous 
stares.  Had  we  laid  ourselves  out  to  attract  atten- 
tion we  couldn't  have  planned  better. 

Tom  inquired  about  the  trains,  and  called  a  taxi. 

"  Been  a  bit  too  much  for  her,"  with  a  nod  towards 
me,  was  the  only  comment  he  offered. 

The  local  was  full.     We  had  difficulty  in  finding 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  199 

seats,  and  I  believe  being  up  against  it  —  having  to 
hustle  —  was  our  best  medicine.  Griggs  and  I  sat 
side  by  side,  inefficiency  making  us  feel  like  naughty 
children,  while  Tom  superintended  things  from  down 
the  aisle. 

The  train  crawled,  stopping  to  take  up  the  tracks 
and  relay  them  at  every  crossroad.  Her  trip  must 
have  been  timed  to  test  the  passengers'  patience. 
Every  five  minutes  she'd  spend  an  hour  anchored  to 
some  tiny  cowshed.  It  grew  hot,  steaming  hot.  The 
air  was  rank.  Not  a  ventilator  open  and  the  tempera- 
ture overburdened  with  odors  of  humanity. 

"  I  can't  stand  this !  "  I  cried,  rising  to  take  off  my 
coat.  As  my  arms  slipped  out,  something  slipped  on 
my  shoulder  —  the  camera  case.  The  diamonds ! 

"  Howard,"  I  confessed,  in  a  sepulchral  voice,  "  I 
forgot  to  leave  them." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Two  days  later  little  Clarissa,  all  sunned  up  in  a  new 
suit  and  splendid  spirits,  sallied  forth  to  visit  Mr. 
Howard  Horatio  Griggs,  to  condone  with  him  about 
a  mysteriously  wounded  foot,  and  drink  a  cup  of  tea. 
The  Swanhills  were  invited  for  form's  sake.  (After 
Griggsy  and  me  kiting  up  to  Canada  through  the  lone 
dark  night,  without  a  thought  of  sin!  Isn't  it  the 
limit?)  Yet  a  bachelor  apartment  is  a  bachelor  apart- 
ment, and  that  obscure  remark  "  the  higher  the  fewer  " 
does  not  necessarily  apply. 

Conversation  over  a  telephone  is  circumscribed  at 
best,  and  our  parting  had  left  much  to  be  said.  So 
I  arranged  to  go  late,  trusting  the  chaperones  would 
leave  early,  determined  to  brave  Mrs.  G.  and  sit  them 
out  at  a  pinch. 

Dear  Aunt  Elizabeth's  ear-rings,  furbished  up  by 
Tiffany,  their  original  garnets  replaced  with  pigeon 
bloods  as  big  as  cobblestones,  had  just  come  home. 
The  designer  claimed  diamonds  wouldn't  have  been 
fashionable  in  the  old  lady's  time,  and  the  reds  were 
sweller  —  they  were  a  swell  price  anyway!  If  he'd 
put  twinklers  in,  I  don't  believe  I'd  have  had  the  nerve 
to  wear  them,  but  as  it  was  I  hung  the  decoration  on, 
and  pranced.  Savvy?  It  was  my  fell  intention  to 
make  that  Erma  madder  than  a  wet  hen. 

Her  blessed  brother  played  right  into  my  hand  at  the 
start. 

200 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  201 

"  You  look  so  different,  Miss  Clarissa,  awfully  grown 
up.  I  don't  believe  I  ever  saw  you  wearing  danglers 
before.  Very  becoming." 

"  The  ear-rings,"  I  laughed.  "  Old  stuff.  I  don't 
sport  them  often,  but  I  have  an  affection  for  them  all 
the  same.  Great-grandaunt  Elizabeth's  wedding  pres- 
ent." I  made  a  courtesy  in  grand  style  and,  unhitch- 
ing one,  handed  it  over  for  inspection.  I  wanted  them 
to  note  the  setting  was  genuine  antique.  Sister 
grabbed  it  instantly  and  began  purring  over  the  stone 
—  anything  to  get  next  to  Howard ! 

"  I've  often  wondered  what  kind  of  a  stock  was  up 
to  producing  Clarissa  Kendall  of  Kendall  Mine  fame," 
Swanhill  bantered,  admiring,  yet  with  a  question 
tucked  inside. 

I  smiled.  "  One  of  the  great-grands  held  a  com- 
mand under  Nelson";  (It  was  no  lie  either.)  and 
added,  "  but  my  people  didn't  emigrate  in  the  May-- 
flower, they  were  some  punkins  before  that." 

Griggs  turned  scarlet.  Beaty  laughed.  And 
Erma  slapped  her  furs  around  her  neck  quick,  saying 
she'd  have  to  leave  —  another  engagement  —  the  re- 
liable old  gag. 

"  Sit  down,  sis.  Lots  of  time.  We  can  miss  a 
dance  or  two."  He  came  around  behind  my  chair. 
"What  have  you  got  here?  Candy?  I'm  starving 
for  candy."  The  great  baby  lifted  a  beaded  bag  that 
hung  on  the  knob  and  commenced  to  pull  its  neck 
apart.  His  frank  curiosity  was  rather  attractive.  I 
saw  he  would  burn  his  ringers  in  a  minute. 

"  Not  so  fast !  Smarty !  You'll  be  discovering  all 
my  secrets."  My  vehemence  startled  him.  I  snatched 
the  bag  which  was  really  too  large  and  bulky  for  aft- 


202  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ernoon  use,  and  holding  it  securely,  tried  to  laugh  the 
incident  off. 

"  How's  rubber?  "  That  was  a  safe  subject  to  di- 
vert Mr.  Broker  Beaty,  but  it  didn't  work,  not  for  a 
minute. 

"  Don't  talk  shop  —  not  on  a  dandy  afternoon  like 
this,"  he  began  to  jolly  me.  "  Where  have  you  been 
since  a  dog's  age?  I  called  twice.  They  hit  me  over 
the  inoffensive  cranium  with  a  brick  bat — '  out  of 
town.'  Out  of  town,  indeed!  Why  don't  you  give 
us  warning?  You  certainly  ought  to  leave  me  your 
address  —  on  account  of  the  market.  Rubber's  up  — 
sky  high.  Better  sell.  Something  might  happen." 

"  Shucks !  "  I  said.  "  Who  appointed  you  my  uncle 
Dudley?  Let  it  happen." 

"  I  believe  you  carry  the  midnight  kit  in  that  bead 
bag.  Ah,  it's  hard !  Not  a  negligee." 

His  fingers  itched  and  I  kept  them  itching.  We 
bandied  personal  criticisms  for  a  time,  till  Erma 
"  really  had  to  "  and  towed  him  away,  unresisting  and 
humble. 

I  rounded  up  Aunt  Elizabeth's  own,  and  Griggs  sat 
watching  me  put  it  on. 

"Jove!  I  don't  see  how  you  can  look  a  jewel  in 
the  face  —  let  alone  hook  it  in." 

"  Hook  nothing !  It  screws  —  see.  One  hole  in 
anybody's  ear  is  sufficient.  You  can  go  up  head, 
Griggsy.  You  are  learning  the  great  American  lan- 
guage." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  the  bally  things  ?  "  he 
asked  wearily. 

"  They're  here."  I  swung  the  disputed  bag. 
"  Bought  this  yesterday  at  daybreak.  I'm  obliged  to 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  203 

carry  them  around.  Wouldn't  Swanhill  have  thrown 
fits,  if  he'd  seen  my  brand  of  candy?  " 

"  Have  you  ever  taken  a  peep?  " 

"  Nix !  Why  should  I  ?  Diamonds  are  diamonds, 
specially  unset.  And  I  never  feel  safe  and  sure  alone 
in  a  hotel  —  the  maids  having  pass  keys  and  all." 

"  We're  safe  now.  Jackson  wouldn't  dream  of  com- 
ing in,  unless  I  rang.  Let's  look,  Clarissa." 

"  Children  cry  for  it,"  I  said  tossing  over  the  bag. 
And  he,  bored  and  curious  and  idle,  was  as  pleased  as 
a  kid  with  a  new  toy. 

I  didn't  trust  any  person  those  days,  so  I  locked  both 
doors. 

Stealthily,  eagerly  he  pulled  out  the  black  case  and 
opened  it  over  my  lap.  A  snowstorm  of  folded  paper 
tumbled  together.  We  grabbed  one  each  and  started 
unfolding.  Now  I'd  begun,  I  was  keener  than  he, 
and  my  fingers  being  nimbler  I  beat  him  to  it. 

"Look!"  I  cried,  before  I'd  fairly  looked  myself. 
Our  heads  drew  close.  Instead  of  a  bright  tear-drop 
glistening  on  the  paper  we  saw  only  a  dull  white  pebble. 

"  In  the  rough.  Always  look  like  that,  don't  you 
know." 

"  Tain't  in  the  rough,"  I  objected.  "  No  rough 
about  this.  It's  smooth  as  a  job  hunter.  It's  only  a 
durned  smooth  freshwater  pebble  picked  out  of  some- 
body's front  walk !  " 

Griggs  examined  the  stone.  "  I  believe  you're 
right,"  and  opening  his,  exclaimed,  "  Here's  another 
jolly  little  bounder !  " 

Working  fast  and  furious  we  opened  every  paper, 
with  a  net  result  that  wasn't  worth  five  cents.  We 
didn't  find  a  single  sparkler  in  the  lot  —  just  common 


204  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

or  garden  pebbles.  Stutz  had  handed  me  nothing. 
The  gang  had  fought  for  a  leather  case,  and  lost  their 
freedom  for  a  song  on  the  wild,  black  shore  of  Erie. 
Griggs  had  lain  awake  guarding  vacuum,  as  values 
went,  and  I  had  been  transporting  a  sample  of  the  foot- 
path on  my  sacred  person.  Gee!  We  gazed  at  each 
other  dumfounded.  And  then  a  curious  thing  hap- 
pened. 

Without  choice  or  intention  I  up  and  let  them  have 
it  in  the  ripest  volley  of  ripe  oaths  ever  unloaded  on 
New  York.  I  consigned  Jacobs  to  perdition,  whole 
and  in  fractions,  and  mentioned  half  a  dozen  stopping 
places  en  route  where  he  wouldn't  need  an  arctic  out- 
fit. I  named  them  over  every  one  apart.  I  blistered 
him.  I  blazed.  I  blew  up  and  descended  in  lava,  and 
sank  back  on  to  my  chair  stuttering.  Minor  curses 
rose  like  smoke  from  an  explosion.  And  all  the  time 
acute  pain  racked  me  to  think  that  crafty  Jew  had  put 
one  over  on  Felix. 

Griggs,  rallying  from  his  first  shock,  bounced  for  a 
pad  and  pencil  and  began  taking  notes. 

When  I  had  simmered  down  and  sat  glaring  after 
•he  manner  of  an  irate  tiger,  he  tried  to  soothe  me. 

"Jove,  this  a  sell!  But  it  doesn't  make  the  least 
difference.  We've  been  at  our  wits'  end  to  lose  the 
bally  things,"  he  laughed.  "  It  looks  as  if  our  troubles 
were  over." 

"If  you  think  losing  a  fortune  is  anything  to  laugh 
at,  you've  got  another  guess  coming,"  I  snapped. 
"  It's  a  crime." 

Griggs  made  a  note.  He  balanced  himself  on  a 
Jacobean  stool,  nursing  his  game  leg,  and  turned  to  me 
with  an  assumption  of  dignity  quite  out  of  class. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  205 

"  Clarissa,  it  is  a  crime  for  you  not  to  give  Science 
a  chance.  This  afternoon's  —  afternoon's  excitement 
has  been  a  magnificent  display.  I  don't  know  that  I 
have  ever  witnessed  any  exhibition  I  prized  more. 
For  five  minutes  you  were  completely  under  the  influ- 
ence of  —  your  familiar  spirit,  if  I  may  mention  de 
Grasse  so.  Could  Sir  Gillespie  have  taken  part  — " 

"  Oh,  cut  it  out !  Science  has  got  you  buffaloed ! 
Jacobs  has  got  us  all  buffaloed !  "  I  cried.  "  No  won- 
der he  showed  me  those  empty  closets,  going  to  intro- 
duce me  as  evidence  —  make  me  swear  to  his  childlike 
simplicity.  What's  the  betting  that  he's  got  the  loot?  " 

"  I  only  hope  he  has,"  said  Howard,  thinking  of 
Angelica.  "  We're  a  great  deal  better  off  as  it  is,  old 
thing,"  were  his  words  at  parting. 

A  man  had  been  waiting  to  see  me  —  a  long  time, 
they  said  at  the  desk.  And  in  the  softly  carpeted, 
roseately  lighted  corridor  leading  to  my  suite  I  found 
Tom  Landy  supporting  the  door  jamb.  His  mood 
struck  antagonistically  against  its  surroundings  from 
the  start,  as  he  said  shortly: 

"  Afraid  you'd  come  in  and  go  out  again,  and  I'd 
miss  you." 

And  he  didn't  waste  half  a  dozen  words  on  polite- 
ness before  he  came  to  the  point.  "  How  would  you 
enjoy  a  trip  abroad  —  Europe,  Africa,  Australia? 
The  farther  the  better." 

"  In  the  Swallow?  "  I  queried  laughing.  "  Let  me 
order  something  for  you,  Tom.  Waiting  is  a  dry 
job." 

But  my  buoyance  broke  to  smithereens  against  his 
gravity. 

"  That  interesting  news  item  on  the  sand  bar  has 


ao6  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

been  uncovered.  Babylon  is  crazy  —  everybody  talk- 
ing." 

I  was  nonplussed.  He  stepped  to  one  door  after 
the  other,  glanced  outside,  and  closed  and  fastened 
them.  Even  a  matter  of  fact  manner  could  not  hide 
the  suggestiveness  of  such  actions.  Then  he  sat  on 
the  edge  of  his  chair,  leaned  forward,  and  talked  earn- 
estly in  a  low  voice. 

"Babylon  is  humming  with  the  murder  now,  but 
up  to  seven  o'clock  this  morning  its  wharf  loafers 
talked  of  nothing  but  a  certain  black  speedboat  Her 
having  dared  to  run  from  Freeport  by  open  sea,  a  craft 
of  that  size,  so  late  in  the  year,  too  —  the  season  long 
over  and  dirty  weather  almost  certain.  And  the  queer- 
ness  of  her  having  landed  with  a  wounded  man  and 
a  plumb  scared  girl  on  board.  It  doesn't  take  long 
for  the  dullest  wits  to  hang  a  connecting  link  between 
these  two  sensations;  particularly  as  they  happened  on 
the  same  day  —  or  thereabouts.  (The  coroner's  in- 
quest win  fix  an  exact  date  for  the  deaths.)  Report- 
ers on  several  sporting  pages  were  down  to  see  me 
and  the  Swallow  yesterday." 

"  I  planned  to  make  boating  a  feature,"  I  admitted 
weakly. 

"ItTI  be  featured  all  right!  One  tenacious  fellow 
with  a  steel  trap  of  a  mind  hung  around  to-day  from 
twelve  to  two.  If  he  isn't  a  detective  I  miss  my 
guess!" 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  look  up  sailings  and  get  some 
clothes—" 

"Clothes!"  he  snorted.  "You'd  better  get  out 
quick!" 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  207 

"But  one  can't  travel  without  clothes  —  it  would 
spoil  all  the  fun  — " 

He  looked  at  me  open-eyed.  "  Say,  Miss  Clarissa, 
this  isn't  fun.  Being  arrested,  even  on  suspicion,  is 
no  fun!" 

"Arrested."  My  voice  died  in  a  dry  throat  I 
swallowed.  "  They  couldn't  do  it  —  they  haven't  any 
—  any  proof." 

"  How  do  we  know  what  they've  got?  You  were 
on  the  bar.  You  were  right  in  the  house  at  that  very 
time,  or  mighty  soon  after.  I  don't  know  why  you 
went  there,  and  I  don'-t  want  to  know.  Maybe  you 
could  explain  it  satisfactorily,  but  any  chance  of  your 
having  to  do  so  in  court  is  what  we  want  to  prevent. 
Arrest  is  a  nasty  business  —  it's  a  splash  of  indelible 
ink!" 

His  use  of  the  plural  unnerved  me.  Griggs  —  the 
honorable  name  of  Griggs  —  would  be  dragged  in  the 
mud  too,  and  the  Terrier  and  Bully.  "But  isn't  it 
foolish  to  run  away  —  doesn't  it  make  us  look  guilty?  " 
I  asked. 

"  We  fouled  our  innocence  by  not  reporting  at  the 
time.  And  in  America,  running  is  pretty  good  medi- 
cine. Public  indignation  is  short-lived  here.  The 
police  are  pushing  this  case  like  fury,  and  it's  being 
read  and  studied  as  few  are,  but  the  next  excitement 
is  sure  to  snuff  out  interest.  Absence  may  save  you 
a  lot  of  annoyance  —  at  the  worst  they'd  have  to  lo- 
cate you,  and  it  all  takes  time.  There's  the  old  chap 
to  reckon  with  too." 

He  drew  a  wallet  from  his  inside  pocket  and  handed 
me  a  paper  dipping.  An  inconspicuous  notice  of  an 


208  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

old  sailor  being  found  in  an  open  boat,  out  of  his 
head  from  exposure,  and  taken  to  Bellevue  Hospital. 

"  He  could  tell  all  about  the  murder,  if  it's  the  same 
man." 

"  WThy  should  he  tell  —  maybe  he  did  it  himself,  and 
the  surest  way  to  get  clear  would  be  to  have  another 
suspected.  He'd  have  everything  to  lose  and  nothing 
to  gain  in  helping  you  —  he'd  never  seen  you  before." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  had !  I  was  there  —  not  so  long  ago. 
He  was  nice,  kind  old  chap,  called  me  '  Missy '  and 
said  it  was  no  place  for  the  likes  of  me  — " 

Tom's  face  went  white  as  a  boiled  shirt.  He 
stared.  "  You  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
gang,  did  you,  Miss  Kendall  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens,  no !  I  never  spoke  to  any  of  them 
in  my  life  —  except  when  I  went  out  there  for  a  lark. 
I  just  got  in  by  chance  —  I  didn't  know  what  I  was 
doing.  You  scare  me,  Tom,  with  your  wild  sugges- 
tions." 

"  Not  as  bad  as  you  scared  me,"  he  answered.  "  We 
can't  bank  on  the  old  fellow.  Take  my  advice  and 
cut  it  —  get  off  under  another  name  —  lose  yourself 
for  a  while." 

"Is  it  as  bad  as  that?  I'll  go.  I'll  do  anything 
you  say  —  only  leave  me  now." 

I  shoved  a  roll  of  bills  into  his  hand  and  shoved  him 
toward  the  door.  Henri  and  I  had  had  ill  we  could 
stand. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

The  steamship  Carbothia,  sailing  from  a  Jersey  pier 
at  two  o'clock  next  day,  carried  among  her  first  cabin 
passengers  a  certain  Mrs.  J.  J.  Brown,  who  resembled 
Clarissa  Kendall  surprisingly:  same  latitude,  same 
longitude,  same  weight  to  an  ounce,  same  eyes  and 
teeth  and  complexion,  same  voice,  same  laugh,  even 
the  identical  clothes.  Only  a  plain  gold  band  encir- 
cling her  third  finger  on  the  left  hand  gave  sameness 
the  lie.  Had  you  been  rushing  forward  to  greet  Clar- 
issa, arms  extended,  and  a  gush  about  old  times  bub- 
bling under  your  tongue,  one  glimpse  of  that  band 
must  have  faced  you  about,  feeling  all  sorts  of  a  fool. 
Naturally,  Clarissa  Kendall  wouldn't  be  wearing  a  wed- 
ding ring.  Tom  Landy  had  supplied  the  disguise  along 
with  my  ticket. 

Only  one  person  came  down  to  see  Mrs.  Brown  off, 
and  he  didn't  seem  to  have  much  to  say  to  her.  Em- 
barrassed silence  hung  over  them.  Their  thoughts 
were  much  too  serious  for  words  —  in  public ;  and 
each  shivered  in  his  shoes,  secretly  fearing  an  official 
interruption.  But  when  the  moment  came,  the  youth- 
full  widow  shook  her  henchman's  hand  warmly,  say- 
ing: 

"  Remember,  Tom,  you're  in  charge  till  I  get  back. 
I'll  send  my  address.  Take  another  job,  if  you  need 
it  to  keep  out  of  mischief,  but  you  salary's  doubled 
and  will  go  on  just  the  same.  Good-by,  and  a  thou- 

209 


210  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

sand  thanks.  Don't  forget  to  call  on  Mr.  Griggs  this 
evening." 

Whistles  blew,  kisses  were  smacked,  embraces  given, 
handkerchiefs  waved.  Stay-behinds  hurried  on  shore. 
The  Carbothia  began  to  back  out,  separating  loving 
thousands.  A  jammed  pier-end  became  only  less  ani- 
mated than  her  thronged  rails.  Aristocracy  waved 
five-dollar  cambric  and  fifty-dollar  lace  from  her  cabin 
deck,  and  farewells  graded  themselves  suitably  down 
to  the  steward  leaning  from  a  scullery  port,  chucking 
an  orange  peel  at  his  best  girl.  A  pretty  scene,  a 
lively  scene,  an  exciting  scene,  one  to  which  every  good 
American  looks  either  forward  or  back  —  born  to  be 
part  and  parcel  of  it.  An  opening  scene  which  ninety- 
nine  per  cent,  of  a  ship's  passengers  can  bank  on  see- 
ing, no  matter  what  the  state  of  their  livers.  Little 
Mrs.  Brown,  on  her  virgin  trip,  was  the  exceptional 
one  per  cent. 

I  waited  not  to  single  Tom's  shoulders  from  the 
mass;  to  watch  the  Woolworth  Building  drape  her 
head  in  mist;  to  serve  my  term  at  the  writing  desk, 
or  sight  Liberty  lighting  our  outward  path.  I  had 
already  sighted  a  personality  much  more  impressive, 
and,  to  me,  confounding.  Jim  Gower,  who  for  one 
fleeting  night  had  been  so  gone  on  me,  stood  with  a 
woman,  not  ten  feet  forward,  absorbed  by  the  passing 
show.  He  held  her  arm  possessively,  and  from  the 
childish  face  sunning  itself  in  dimples,  I  guessed  it 
was  her  maiden  voyage  too.  With  sarcasm  priming 
memory  I  faded  away  into  deep  seclusion.  It  didn't 
take  five  minutes,  going  down  the  Hudson  River  in 
midstream,  to  prove  Mrs.  J.  J.  B.  a  rotten  sailor.  She 
undressed  at  once,  and  slipped  into  her  berth.  There 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  211 

a  husky  stewardess  found  her  in  due  time,  clad  in  a 
crepe  nightie  and  a  flowery  cap,  sleeping  the  sleep  of 
innocence  and  great  fatigue.  From  the  shadows  un- 
der her  eyes  "  bon  voyage  "  must  have  been  a  regular 
razzle-dazzle  for  Mrs.  Brown  —  strenuous  anyway ! 

"  Humph,"  remarked  the  company's  employee, 
quickly  appraising  my  clothes  and  hand  baggage.  She 
sensed  she  was  likely  to  find  work  in  this  room  and 
figured  the  probable  size  of  a  hard-earned  tip. 

Packing  an  entire  night  on  top  of  recent  excitement 
had  about  finished  me.  For  two  days  I  lay  a  weary 
rag,  cozening  the  Irishwoman's  superior  knowledge 
into  voluble  sympathy.  But  as  my  eyes  brightened  and 
my  cheeks  grew  pink,  helped  by  the  strong  salt  air 
blowing  into  an  open  port,  she  waxed  impatient. 

"  Are  you  minded  to  hug  your  cabin  all  the  way 
to  the  auld  sod?  Sure,  and  it's  the  splendid  weather 
we're  havin'.  You'd  do  finely  on  deck." 

But  Mrs.  Brown  continued  to  lie  abed,  eating  like 
a  wolf,  devouring  books  between  meals  and  limiting 
her  chances  of  conversation  to  the  attendance  of  Kath- 
leen O'Doyle. 

"  Begorra,  ye  make  me  ashamed  of  my  sex !  "  she 
upbraided.  "  There's  anither  of  ye  across  the  hall. 
Older  than  you  by  thirty  year,  but  not  a  hap'orth 
spryer  or  a  hap'orth  more  sick.  Baroness  von  Rath- 
gartz,  they  have  her  down.  She  don't  look  it  —  but 
thin  she's  only  wan  of  them  furrin  quality  —  and  what 
can  you  get  from  a  hog  but  a  grunt?  It's  the  truth, 
I'm  tellin'  you.  She  hasn't  had  a  blessed  mouthful  of 
fresh  air  yet.  '  The  sunlight  hurts  my  eyes,'  says  she. 
'  Musha,  you  could  be  takin'  a  turn  after  dark/  I  told 
her." 


212  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Mrs.  Brown  allowed  the  worthy  tongue  to  wag, 
but  took  a  cue  from  its  advice.  After  that  I  spent  an 
hour  on  deck  each  evening  while  the  saloon  dined  and 
wined  itself,  Gower  first  to  enter  and  last  to  leave,  un- 
doubtedly. By  avoiding  companionways  and  stealing 
up  a  little  stair  just  near  my  own  door,  I  managed 
to  pass  out  unobserved,  and  enjoyed  a  grand  trot 
around  the  deserted  decks  in  perfect  safety.  Night 
after  night  old  ocean  rolled  the  same  monotonous  but 
charitable  mood;  tossing  us  lightly,  regularly,  on  a 
lullaby  swell.  We  were  making  a  record  voyage. 
Hardened  travellers  marvelled  over  our  daily  runs; 
the  betting  pool  became  a  riot;  but  in  fair  weather 
nobody  kicked  at  her  driving  ahead.  Passengers  be- 
gan to  congratulate  themselves  and  each  other  on  sav- 
ing a  day.  The  captain  received  their  felicitation 
with  reserve.  He  was  not  much  in  evidence.  Men 
hit  it  off  at  shuffle-board,  smoked  and  told  stories. 
The  women  idled  and  enjoyed  themselves,  and  also 
told  stories.  I  felt  as  peeved  over  being  out  of  it  all, 
as  the  stewardess,  who  painted  these  delights,  was  with 
my  laziness.  But  I  continued  to  lie  low  till  that  fate- 
ful hour,  throwing  even  the  most  supine  of  us  into 
terrified  action. 

Stop  here  and  mark  a  foot  note  on  your  memory- 
file.  All  this  happened  a  decade  ago.  Quite  before 
sea  tragedy  dropped  to  the  level  of  the  commonplace ; 
before  submarine  commanders  were  iron-crossed  for 
their  glorious  achievements  in  destroying  women  and 
children;  before  torpedo  warfare  had  blazed  a  bar 
sinister  on  civilization's  shield ;  before  even  the  Titanic 
with  her  thousand  victims,  or  that  bit  of  Chicago  care- 
lessness with  its  nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine,  had 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  213 

electrified  the  world.  We  have  learned  to  take  our 
list  of  drowned  now  every  morning  at  the  breakfast 
table,  very  much  as  we  take  our  cup  of  coffee,  unemo- 
tionally counting  the  lumps  of  sugar  fading  into  its 
dark  depths.  But  in  those  days  it  was  not  so.  Pas- 
sengers claimed  a  certain  amount  of  security  when 
they  embarked.  They  chose  a  first  class  boat  on  a 
good  line  and  expected  to  be  looked  after.  And  they 
were  preserved  alive,  mostly.  Therefore  the  total 
destruction  of  the  good  ship  Carbothia  stood  out 
largely  in  the  headlines,  and  darkly  in  the  hearts  of 
New  York.  Newspapers  went  into  mourning.  Quite 
disinterested  people  wore  a  black  ribbon.  Crowds 
surged  around  the  bulletin  boards  night  and  day. 
Loss  of  a  passenger  ship,  with  a  name  like  Gower's 
heading  the  list  of  missing,  was  a  stern,  attention-com- 
pelling catastrophe  then. 

It  stands  out  grimly  in  my  mind's  eye  now;  every 
detail  black-faced,  clear  as  a  first  impression. 

We  were  steaming  along  at  a  good  clip,  not  far 
off  the  coast  of  Ireland.  It  was  early  morning  — 
about  six,  I  fancy  —  not  yet  light.  I  had  climbed  up 
to  take  a  look  out  of  my  port  and  get  a  breath  of  raw 
fresh  air,  and  I  stood  planning  the  fun  I  would  have 
on  shore.  I  was  fed  up  with  rest  and  quiet  now. 
Excepting  that  sprint  on  deck  every  evening  I  had 
taken  no  exercise  for  six  days.  Try  it.  Makes  one 
boy-hungry  for  a  lark. 

While  I  was  standing  there,  musing  on  the  face  of 
the  gray  waters,  thinking  of  London  and  Paris,  and 
the  shops,  she  went  off.  Whoo  — !  Gripes !  What 
a  racket!  Immediately  a  cloud  of  dense  black  smoke 
roared  out  of  the  front  part  of  the  ship.  I  waited  to 


214  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

see  no  more,  but  jumped  for  my  skirt  and  coat,  hang- 
ing right  at  hand,  slung  them  on  over  my  negligee, 
and  dashed  into  the  passage.  The  whole  place  was 
already  in  wildest  disorder.  Men,  women  and  chil- 
dren poured  out  of  their  staterooms  making  for  the 
main  stairway,  some  of  them  not  dressed  at  all,  and 
everybody  pulling  and  jostling  and  screaming.  As 
I  hesitated,  calculating  on  the  best  chance,  I  heard 
cries  from  the  berth  opposite  mine  —  the  one  where 
the  Baroness,  as  reported,  had  loafed  away  her  days. 
Say!  I  couldn't  listen  to  a  dog  cry  like  that  and  not 
do  something.  I  ran  back  to  her  rescue,  flung  the 
door  open  and  stood  petrified.  There  on  the  bed,  half 
in,  half  out,  lay  Angelica  Deering.  No!  Impossible! 
But  it  was  the  woman  who  had  been  hidden  in  Jacobs's 
secret  room.  I  knew  her.  I  couldn't  miss.  I  recog- 
nized those  fear-glazed  eyes  staring  at  me  as  they  had 
stared  that  first  time.  She  was  scared  now  —  more 
scared  than  on  the  former  count.  I'd  have  said  she 
was  worse  frightened  than  anybody  else  on  board. 
And  I  tell  you  some  pretty  ghastly  faces  had  greeted 
mine  in  the  hall. 

"  (Help !  Help !  "  the  old  thing  called,  without  at- 
tempting to  move  or  help  herself. 

There  wasn't  a  minute  to  lose,  a  minute  to  reason. 
I  hated  her,  but  I  couldn't  leave  a  living  soul  to  drown 
like  a  rat  in  a  hole.  I  reached  right  across  and  yanked 
her  out  of  bed  by  the  breast  of  her  stout  flannel  gown. 
She  was  absolutely  numb  with  fear  —  whether  of  the 
accident,  or  of  me,  or  of  the  blend  I  had  no  way  to 
tell.  I  rolled  a  dressing  robe,  a  soiled  gray  garment, 
around  her,  and  seeing  my  enemy  in  its  folds  removed 
the  last  lingering  doubt  of  her  identity.  Luck  had 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  '215 

given  me  a  chance  to  get  even  with  her  all  right,  but 
what  did  I  care  for  the  chance  with  the  ship  sinking 
under  us  a  mile  a  minute.  Luck  and  circumstances 
do  pass  the  buck  in  private  sure !  Time  was  the  only 
thing  worth  reckoning.  We  weren't  set  to  compare 
notes  or  fill  each  other's  ears  with  invective  —  not  we ! 
I  gave  her  a  shove  towards  the  door.  She  cowered. 
I  pushed,  and  seeing  that  was  no  use,  dodged  through 
myself  and  commenced  to  drag.  She  tore  away  from 
my  grasp,  and  diving  back,  grabbed  a  bulky  pocketbook 
from  under  her  pillow. 

"  This  must  be  saved !  Must  —  must !  It  must  be 
saved ! "  she  whimpered.  "  I've  been  a  bad  old 
woman,  and  there's  no  use  living  —  none  at  all  if  I  lose 
it.  And  I  have  no  safe  place  —  no  place!"  All  the 
time  she  was  pawing  over  her  dressing  gown,  trying  to 
find  a  pocket  that  didn't  exist.  And  all  the  time  the 
ship  was  going  down.  Suddenly  she  held  the  wad  to 
me  crying: 

"Take  it  —  put  it  away  —  save  it!  Give  it  to  me 
afterward  —  only  save  the  key."  I  stuck  the  case 
into  my  Norfolk  coat  and  hauled  her  out,  now  unpro- 
testing.  And  all  the  time  she  muttered  and  wailed. 
"  The  papers  —  the  key  —  the  box  at  Schlossgartz. 
Fritz  has  the  papers  —  my  papers  —  my  secret  My 
boy,  oh,  my  boy !  The  little  gray  dispatch  box.  Save 
it!" 

By  this  time  Clarissa  was  entertaining  qualms  for 
her  own  safety. 

The  long  passage  leading  from  our  doors  had  emp- 
tied. I  saw  a  mob  farther  on,  every  man-jack  of  them 
crowding  toward  the  main  companionway.  I  saw 
we  couldn't  make  it,  and  in  a  flash  remembered  the  side 


216  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

door  I  had  used  taking  my  little  airings  unobserved. 
A  second  later  I  had  the  old  baggage  faced  about. 
How  I  managed  to  get  her  up  the  ladder  Heaven  only 
knows,  for  she  was  massive,  though  not  stout,  a  half 
head  taller  than  I  and  stupid  from  fright. 

We  did  get  up,  and  just  in  time,  too.  The  water 
began  to  come  in  on  our  level  a  few  minutes  later. 
Most  of  the  folks  on  the  lower  deck  were  drowned. 

The  coal  had  been  burning  for  three  or  four  days ; 
good  reason  for  our  jamming  ahead  breaking  all  rec- 
ords. Our  captain  set  shifts  to  fight  the  fire  and  kept 
the  danger  to  himself  fearing  panic  among  his  pas- 
sengers. Aside  from  the  risk  of  accumulated  gas  ex- 
ploding, a  fire  in  the  coal  bunkers  isn't  half  so  infre- 
quent nor  half  so  terrifying  as  one  might  suppose. 
Our  crew  had  discovered  the  source  and  location  of 
the  mischief,  and  had  the  fire  in  hand.  We  were  mak- 
ing smart  time  in  wonderful  weather.  With  just  a  lit- 
tle luck  all  would  be  well.  Nevertheless  captain  and 
purser  wore  troubled  faces;  mindful  of  the  high  ex- 
plosives invoiced  in  her  cargo.  The  only  outward  sign 
of  this  situation  was  the  lifeboats  ready  swung  over 
the  water;  and  such  is  the  sloth  of  idle  brains,  after 
they  had  been  carried  that  way  for  twenty- four  hours, 
even  the  most  curious  ceased  to  bother.  As  I  had  been 
told,  everybody  was  enjoying  himself  to  the  hilt. 

Then  suddenly,  before  the  cock  crew  on  our  last 
day  out,  a  pocket  of  the  foul  gas  blew  off.  Nothing 
to  worry  about  in  itself,  that  little  explosion,  if  it 
hadn't  started  the  combustibles  in  her  hold. 

Nobody  knew  these  facts  during  the  reign  of  ter- 
ror; nor  stopped  to  care  nor  to  inquire  as  they  were 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  217 

vomited  forth  from  the  ship's  interior,  or  held  below, 
a  seething,  striving,  obstructive  mass.  I  realized  then 
only  what  I  saw  as  we  climbed  to  the  boat-deck :  the 
front  of  the  vessel  burning  and  settling,  with  a  heavy 
pillar  of  smoke  blowing  away  from  her.  A  splendid 
sort  of  funeral  plume  waving  the  last  journey  for 
many  human  souls. 

At  the  top  of  our  ladder  Grandma  and  I  came  out 
almost  opposite  a  lifeboat.  The  chief  officer  stood 
calmly  at  his  post  loading  folks  into  it. 

"  Room  for  one  more !  "  his  stentorian  voice  bel- 
lowed. 

A  worm  sprang  forward  and  was  hauled  back. 
Dozens  of  hands  clutched  him.  Fists  doubled  them- 
selves in  defence  of  the  world  edict.  Threats  were 
shaken  in  his  face.  I  rather  pitied  the  poor  thing  that 
wanted  most  to  live.  Hisses  started  and  dropped, 
spurted  here  and  there  venomously,  fainted,  died  away. 
The  officer  glanced  in  our  direction.  I  shoved  the 
Baroness  toward  him,  and  two  husky  sailors  lifted 
her  in.  They'd  have  glammed  me  also,  I  being  the 
only  other  female  in  sight  But  I  backed  off.  The 
boat  was  full.  Henri  is  a  sane  coward.  His  male 
instinct  prefefred  to  take  its  lone  chance  outside. 
Hardly  were  the  old  thing's  skinny  legs  hidden  by  the 
gunwale  when  the  ropes  began  to  strain  on  their  davits 
and  run  out.  They  ran  out,  but  they  ran  wrong. 
First  one  rattled  free,  so  that  the  boat  was  all  down 
in  her  stern,  then  the  front  jerked  even,  pitching  its 
occupants  topsy-turvy.  Then  both  ripped  along  to- 
gether. The  crew  seemed  absolutely  unable  to  hold 
her  weight  back.  Tarred  hands  hung  on  till  the  ropes 


2i8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

burnt,  till  they  lost  control  of  her  altogether.  The 
big  boat,  loaded  to  capacity,  hit  a  mounting  swell  ker- 
flop and  keeled  over. 

Those  of  us  left  on  deck  breathed  soft  prayers  of 
pity  —  prayers  for  ourselves  inclusive.  The  man  who 
had  been  mauled  out  of  her  commenced  to  cry  child- 
ishly. I  lie  awake  nights  now  when  I  think  of  that 
scene,  but  at  the  moment  it  struck  me  like  a  moving 
picture.  I  blessed  the  darkness  in  the  house  half  hid- 
ing it.  Hands  and  arms  and  legs  all  flounced  in  the 
sea  together,  trying  to  get  themselves  righted  and  not 
considering  anybody  else's  chance  till  they  made  good 
on  their  own.  Some  were  content  to  hang  to  the  boat, 
while  others  fought  to  climb  on  top;  and  one  fierce, 
crazy  vampire  mounted  astride  her  keel  worked  like 
a  nailer  shoving  the  rest  off.  De  Grasse  and  his  gang 
stripped  me  stark  of  confidence,  but  I've  still  enough 
faith  in  human  nature  to  believe  she  thought,  in  her 
blind  confusion,  she  was  helping  to  save  souls. 

I  gazed  down  thrilled  and  fascinated,  not  realizing 
the  truth  of  their  being  alive.  All  the  time  my  eyes 
subconsciously  hunted  for  Jezebel's  gray  thatch  —  but 
never  glimpsed  it.  She  must  have  gone  down  like  a 
bullet,  unable  to  take  her  own  part,  doomed  by  the 
excess  of  her  numbing  fear. 

By  and  by,  it  seemed  hours  but  may  have  been  a 
couple  of  minutes,  a  man  passed  me.  Folks  had  all 
moved  along  by  then,  storming  the  remaining  boats, 
and  this  fellow  was  so  struck  by  my  standing  there, 
watching,  when  I  had  every  chance  of  shooting  to  de- 
struction myself  next  thing,  that  he  pulled  up  short. 

"  Aren't  you  thinking  about  saving  yourself?  " 

"  See  what  comes  of  trying!  " 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  219 

His  glance  followed  my  pointing  arm.  The  wick- 
edness of  their  fight  had  ceased.  Most  of  the  feeble 
were  gone  for  good  —  dramas  of  life  and  death  in 
an  ice-cold  sea  move  quickly.  The  upturned  boat 
wasn't  any  worse  to  look  on  now  than  panic-torn 
groups  to  right  or  left. 

"  Bad  management.  Nothing  in  order.  Inexcus- 
able —  but  it's  always  the  same." 

"  I  think  the  officers  are  mighty  cool  and  collected." 

"  It  looks  as  if  our  future  destinations  depended  en- 
tirely on  our  past  lives." 

That  was  my  cue  for  a  stare.  The  idea  of  any  one 
being  able  to  josh  at  such  a  time,  and  standing  himself 
in  the  very  same  make  of  shoes.  Perhaps,  though,  it 
was  nerves.  I  recollected  nerves  acted  odd  in  certain 
constitutions.  His  bulky  shoulders  hunched  beside 
me,  glooming  through  blackish  dawn,  appeared  to  be 
quite  controlled  —  almost  at  ease.  And  his  next  sen- 
tence gave  the  lie  to  fright. 

"  You  talk  more  like  a  man  than  a  woman.  If 
you're  not  hysterical,  come  along  with  me,  and  we'll 
have  a  try  for  a  whole  skin  anyway.  Up  there,  be- 
hind the  bridge,  is  a  pile  of  rafts.  I've  smoked  on  them 
every  evening.  Not  a  soul  thinks  of  those  rafts  — 
and  wouldn't  go  for  them  if  they  did.  They're  clean 
daft  —  scared  of  the  fire  —  packing  aft  as  tight  as 
sardines."  He  paused  to  eye  the  listing  deck. 

"  The  Carbothia  '11  sink  before  she  burns.  We  can 
sit  still  on  our  perch  and  the  waves  will  wash  us  off 
as  she  settles." 

His  crisp  assurance  carried  hope  with  it.  For  the 
first  time  I  felt  a  wild  desire  to  live.  I  grasped  the 
probability  of  coming  through  alive;  as  he  fed  it  to 


220  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

me,  and  joy  must  have  brightened  my  countenance. 
The  man  smiled. 

"  You'll  do,"  he  commented.  "  Up  the  bridge  lad- 
der —  nothing's  forbidden  now !  " 

\Ve  turned  our  backs  on  the  tortured  mob  and  scur- 
ried aloft.  The  captain,  who  stood  at  his  post  — 
grown  an  old  man  in  ten  minutes  —  saw  what  we  were 
after  and  nodded  approval. 

"  I  wish  the  people  had  more  horse  sense." 

It  was  then  he  told  us  about  the  coal,  ending  with 
reassurance. 

"  The  water  has  put  out  the  fire  already,  and  the 
pumps  are  working  —  have  been  right  along.  They'll 
keep  her  afloat  for  a  margin  of  time.  We  have  been 
in  close  communication  with  other  vessels  during  the 
last  three  days.  Their  ear  is  open  for  our  S.  O.  S. 
If  you  can  manage  to  hang  on  to  your  raft  help  won't 
be  long  coming. 

"  I  wish  you  luck,"  he  added.  And  we  would  have 
wished  him  the  same  —  but  his  face  forbade  it. 

My  heart  sank  when  I  saw  the  unwieldy  thing  — 
a  straw  between  us  and  destruction.  But  I  turned  in 
vigorously  to  help  free  her.  And  once  she  was  loose 
we  sat  down  side  by  side. 

"  Look  around  now  for  the  best  hold  you  can  get, 
for  you'll  need  it  when  the  swirl  comes." 

We  picked  and  planned  against  the  deluge,  and  then 
sat  erect,  our  hands  firmly  clasped  together;  for,  al- 
though he  was  a  stranger,  that  childish  attitude  brought 
me  into  touch  with  human  strength.  I  badly  needed 
bucking  up.  The  man  neither  by  word  nor  glance 
gave  hint  of  fear.  His  attitude  was  not  whistling  to 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  221 

keep  his  courage  alive.  He  simply  did  not  concede 
the  desperateness  of  our  straits. 

"  Are  you  a  Christian  Scientist  ?  "  I  asked,  suddenly 
overcome  by  an  idea  that  he  must  be  pretending.  No 
person  could  actually  feel  unafraid! 

He  laughed.  "  C.  S.  doesn't  interest  me  any  more 
than  Ibsen  interests  me.  Man's  brain's  a  dynamo  of 
power  all  the  same.  Send  out  your  signals  the  way 
you  want  facts  to  hang.  Be  practical  in  emergency. 
If  mind  doesn't  control  matter,  it  at  least  controls  other 
minds.  See  what  comes  of  letting  imagination 
sparkle  —  as  you  told  me." 

He  indicated  the  tempest  below.  We  got  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  the  scene,  and  a  notion  of  our  own  position. 
The  ship  was  listing  something  awful. 

"  We  might  fancy  ourselves  sitting  in  two  deck 
chairs,"  I  said.  "  Only  the  vessel  doesn't  rock  up 
again." 

"  That's  better !  I  knew  you  were  plucky.  Now 
give  over  worrying  about  the  passengers.  Remember 
those  who  ought  to  be  saved  will  be  saved.  Forget 
them  and  think  entirely  about  us." 

Henri  de  Grasse  was  fired  with  kindling  joy  in  this 
man's  mood,  but  it  rather  appalled  Clarissa.  How 
cruel  he  could  be  —  how  ruthless  —  evolving  his  doc- 
trine of  SELF!  As  if  to  contradict  my  unexpressed 
doubt,  he  asked  kindly : 

"You're  not  afraid  of  the  water?" 

"Afraid!  I'm  shivering  in  my  shoes.  I'm  shiver- 
ing literally  and  figuratively.  But  I  can  swim.  Can 
you?" 

"  Swimming's  my  second  name.     My  last  is  Duffy. 


222  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Constant  effort  of  little  Willie  —  my  first  name's  Wil- 
liam —  to  keep  it  from  being  spelt  with  a  final  r." 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  nonplussed. 

He  waited  expectantly. 

"  I  should  think  you'd  succeed."  It  was  a  lame  fin- 
ish, but  he  forgave  the  pause. 

"  You  bet !  I  always  succeed.  Nothing  succeeds 
like  success.  Maybe  you  fancy  it's  late  for  introduc- 
tions, and  that  names  don't  count  here.  Stop  think- 
ing—  you  never  can  tell,  anyway.  There's  a  whole 
lot  in  names.  I  don't  know  yours.  I  figured  the  list 
out  —  but  you  haven't  been  on  deck.  Where  have  you 
kept  yourself  hidden?  If  I'd  seen  you  about,  we'd 
have  become  acquainted  earlier.  I  always  know  what 
I  want." 

The  man's  cheek  stunned  me,  but  I  was  cool  enough 
now  to  diagnose  the  symptoms.  "  He's  overdoing 
nerve,"  I  thought,  "  that's  it.  Playing  for  self-control 
and  sane  action  when  the  test  comes."  With  Henri 
admiring  him  so  much  I  couldn't  absolutely  freeze, 
and  besides  I  found  a  sort  of  reflex  dare-devilish 
bravery  springing  from  his  attitude. 

"  I've  been  in  bed  most  of  the  time." 

"  Sick !  On  a  flat  voyage !  You  don't  look  it  — 
why  nobody's  been  sick!  This  is  some  cure  for  sea- 
sickness !  " 

I  disliked  his  scoffing  —  disliked  the  threatened 
cross-examination,  and  to  avoid  it  said,  q  -'ckly, 

"What's  become  of  Gower?" 

"Golden  Gizzard!  Do  you  know  him?"  He 
queried,  a  new  note  in  his  voice. 

"  Yes." 

There  was  a  pause.     With  Duffy's  next  remark  his 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  223 

tone  changed  again.  Its  sharp  penetrating  alertness 
had  melted  to  tentative  suggestion.  Nothing  definite, 
yet  enough  to  rile  me. 

"  He  has  a  girl  along." 

"  Indeed.  I  have  not  spoken  to  Mr.  Gower  on  the 
trip,"  I  answered  frigidly. 

"  My  mistake." 

I  felt  we  were  drifting  apart  —  far,  far  apart,  al- 
though our  fingers  intertwined.  A  sense  of  loss,  terri- 
ble and  tragic,  overwhelmed  me.  If  the  crazy,  im- 
pudent human  comforter  failed,  where  would  I  be? 
How  would  I  come  through  alone?  —  Alone!  Why 
once  the  ship  sank,  if  our  raft  survived,  the  entire  fran- 
tic pack  below,  whose  crying  we  heeded  now  no  more 
than  the  din  of  a  distant  elevated,  would  be  on  our 
backs,  desperate  to  crowd  us  from  our  few  feet  of 
well-earned  safety.  I  remembered  the  witch  astride 
a  keel  working  to  shove  others  off.  Terror  surged  in 
me.  I  clung  to  Duffy.  I  lifted  my  eyes  to  heaven 
appealing  to  Something  somewhere  in  the  universe  — 
a  Something  all  powerful  and  steady.  Low  on  the 
horizon  lay  a  shaft  of  chill,  pale  yellow,  outlining  an 
ocean  undulant  and  gray.  My  eyes  swept  the  world 
claiming  help,  hope,  to  face  the  nightmare  death.  And 
as  I  looked,  suddenly  the  sun's  rim  sprang  above  that 
steely  girdle  flooding  the  mad  scene  in  ruddy  beams. 

I  turned  to  my  companion.  I  saw  him  for  the  first 
time.  ilj 

He  was  less  than  thirty  and  splendidly  built,  wear- 
ing only  a  blue  coat  and  trousers,  without  collar  or 
polite  embellishment  —  almost  a  bathing  suit  effect. 
Clear  gray  eyes  gazed  level  into  mine,  and  his  hair 
rose  straight  on  end  from  a  high,  flat  brow. 


224  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Hello ! "  I  cried,  surprised  out  of  my  hereafter 
mood.  "  Didn't  you  race  a  black  speedboat  off  the 
Jersey  coast  last  summer?  " 

"Tried  to,  yes.     How  do  you  know  about  it?" 

"  I  was  at  the  wheel.  That's  the  only  craft  she  ever 
saw  the  heels  of." 

"  Quitter!  "  he  jeered,  with  a  flash  of  memory  mak- 
ing de  Grasse  bow  down  and  worship. 

"  And  she  wouldn't  have  seen  yours,"  I  blazed,  "  if 
my  man  had  done  as  he  was  told." 

Duffy  laughed,  revealing  perfect  teeth,  even,  strong, 
white,  cruel  —  I  noted  them,  thinking  of  his  preach- 
ment, and  observed  the  calculating  satisfaction  which 
overspread  his  features. 

"  A  great  day !  I  admired  the  young  lady  more 
than  I  can  tell  —  or  I  wouldn't  have  invited  her  to 
lunch  —  I  never  waste  myself.  I  feel  sure  a  girl  like 
her  can  come  out  of  this  little  affair  O.  K.  If  she 
does  —  if  we  do  —  will  you  promise  to  give  me 
another  chance  —  in  a  longer  race?" 

"  You  don't  waste  time  either,  do  you?  " 

"  I  always  know  what  I  want  the  minute  I  see  it. 
And  as  for  wasting  opportunity  —  wasting  anything. 
What's  the  use?" 

Again  I  gazed  open  mouthed.  What  was  the  man's 
game?  Was  he  having  a  frolic  with  me,  a  blasphe- 
mous, exciting  frolic  in  words  to  hold  our  hearts  steady 
amid  the  weltering  flood  now  rising  swiftly?  Pride 
forbade  me  to  miss  a  trick. 

"  What's  the  use  of  proposing  to  a  woman  that's  all 
aboard  for  kingdom  come?"  I  gulped.  The  water 
was  beginning  to  lick  my  feet.  Cold  feet !  Gee ! 

"  You  don't  believe  you  are  going  to  die,"  he  replied 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  225 

firmly.  "  And  I  only  ask  for  a  chance.  Will  you  ?  " 
He  shook  free  of  my  hand  clasp  and  clutched  the  raft 
as  a  big  wave  mounted.  "  Will  you  ?  " 

"Yes!  Ouch!"  A  ravenous  lump  of  fluid  ice 
poured  round  me.  "  What  do  we  do  next?  "  I  gasped. 

"  Sit  tight  —  and  hang  on !  "  He  did  not  offer  to 
weaken  his  own  position  by  lending  a  helping  hand. 

The  raft  lay  on  a  horrible  incline.  It  was  all  we 
could  do  to  cling  to  her.  Then  quite  unexpectedly  she 
began  to  regain  equilibrium,  to  float  off.  The  waves 
caught  her,  raised  her  and  washed  her  clear  of  the 
ship. 

"  Worked.     Didn't  it?  "  the  man  shouted. 

We  filled  our  lungs  with  a  great  breath  and  hugged 
the  planks  while  amid  a  perfect  turmoil  of  waters  the 
old  Carbothia  sank.  Were  we  unconscious  or  only  lost 
momentarily  in  a  strange  world  of  spars  and  fishes? 
The  raft  whirled  dizzily,  was  sucked  under,  thrown 
up  again,  tipped  and  bucked  and  twisted,  but  with  an 
oiliness  of  motion  that  failed  to  break  our  death  grip. 
In  the  end  I  was  amazed  to  find  myself  alive  and  un- 
harmed, lying  face  to  the  boards,  as  our  raft  lay  on 
the  bosom  of  the  swell. 

I  sat  up  and  gazed  around.  The  sea  looked  so 
empty!  The  sky  was  blotched  with  a  huge  present- 
ment of  Henri's  winged  snake,  and  schools  of  young 
galoshes  swam  in  azure  blue.  Onslaught  from  behind 
made  me  collect  my  wits.  The  whole  ocean  seemed 
alive,  swarming  with  would  be  destroyers.  We 
hadn't  expected  to  hog  our  safe  quarters,  but  we  did 
intend  to  keep  afloat,  and  I  knew  now  the  necessity  was 
going  to  call  for  moral  courage  of  another  brand. 
Women  and  children  clung  to  us  —  what's  to  be  done 


226  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

with  women  and  children?  We  hauled  some  of  them 
up.  More  scrambled  on  of  their  own  liberty.  Men 
came  too, —  rough  seamen.  Very  soon  I  needed  both 
hands  to  prevent  being  divorced  from  my  rightful  her- 
itage. The  raft  groaned  and  creaked,  threatening  to 
go  to  pieces.  She  began  to  founder.  Duffy  pushed 
a  couple  of  men  off  and  then  decided  to  quit  himself. 
But  first  he  made  us  an  astonishingly  characteristic 
speech. 

"  I'm  going  to  leave  this  life  station  to  you  women. 
Remember,  she's  got  all  she  can  carry.  I  was  first 
on  here,  and  I've  a  permit  to  stay ;  but  I'm  leaving  so 
she'll  be  a  bit  lighter.  Don't  get  soft-hearted,  any  of 
you.  If  other  folks  come  hanging  on  to  your  edges, 
shove  them  off  quick.  Understand  ?  Quick !  —  Be- 
fore they  get  a  good  hold.  Those  that  ought  to  be 
saved  will  be  saved.  It's  better  for  the  raft  to  float 
with  a  few  than  founder  and  lose  the  bunch.  Good-by, 
for  a  while." 

I  knew  he  was  talking  at  me  all  through,  even  be- 
fore he  added, 

"  Don't  forget  your  promise.     Au  revoir." 

He  slid  into  the  water  and  swam  with  the  ease  of 
a  fish  to  a  nearby,  substantial  looking  piece  of  wreck- 
age. Some  current  carried  it  away  from  us.  I 
watched  him  drifting  till  his  head  was  no  larger  than 
a  pea. 

During  the  next  three  hours  our  load  eased  up  con- 
siderably. Lots  of  women  couldn't  stand  the  chill. 
We'd  see  them  hanging  on  one  minute  and  their  space 
would  be  empty  a  second  later.  I  was  pretty  well  all 
in  myself  before  help  arrived.  I  was  sogged  through 
with  cold,  cramp  fairly  twisted  my  bones,  and  the 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  227 

loneliness  drove  me  dippy.  Lonesome!  I  can't  de- 
scribe it!  Nothing  but  sky  and  waves  and  ourselves 
—  hemmed  in  by  water  and  clouds.  Occasionally  we'd 
get  a  glimpse  of  one  of  the  boats  away  beyond.  But 
floating  so  low  there,  level  with  the  sea,  it  was  useless 
to  try  to  make  signals.  We  just  had  to  abide  quiet  and 
wait  to  be  picked  up. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Clarissa's  earliest  clear  impression  of  being  rescued, 
was  lying  snug  in  a  woolly  blanket  in  somebody's 
berth ;  and  hearing  a  strange  doctor  say  to  a  strange  at- 
tendant, 

"  She'll  do  very  well  now." 

I  didn't  bother  to  speak.  I  gave  them  the  glad  eye 
for  a  minute  and  sank  immediately  unconscious  again 
—  this  time  into  sleep. 

The  next  thing  I  knew  I  was  wide  awake,  sitting  bolt 
upright,  clamoring  for  food. 

Soup  and  a  ship's  officer  came  along  together.  Per- 
haps it  was  haste,  the  pressure  of  contemporaneous 
events  which  led  me  into  crime  —  the  fall  itself  smacks 
of  de  Grasse  —  anyway,  they  wanted  my  name  and  all 
that  —  facts,  facts,  and  the  heathen  starving !  Be- 
tween mouthfuls  I  bit  back  "  Kendall "  on  an  honest 
tongue.  Von  Rathgartz  sprang  to  my  lips,  and  with- 
out a  pause  to  reckon  cost  or  privilege,  I  opened  up 
and  let  her  fly.  A  serious  minded  man  wrote  the  title 
in  a  serious  list  of  survivors  —  I  had  burnt  my  bridges ! 

Of  course  I  carried  the  old  woman's  papers,  and 
there  wasn't  a  scrap,  not  even  a  name  in  the  passenger 
list,  to  prove  anything  on  Mrs.  Brown.  I  allowed  her 
therefore  and  from  henceforth  to  fade  into  black  obliv- 
ion —  one  more  victim  of  a  noble  wreck. 

Prevarication  sat  lightly  upon  me.     I  was  feeling 

fine,  delighted  to  hear  we  had  sailed  into  the  Thames, 

228 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  229 

and  all  agog  to  go  on  deck.  The  Roman  nosed  matron, 
however,  whose  bunk  I  filled,  received  this  suggestion 
with  a  wide  bias  of  disapproval ;  stating  positively  that 
my  clothes  weren't  fit. 

I  laughed.  "  You  can't  expect  to  be  tailor's  model 
after  your  coat  has  soaked  in  brine  and  dried  in  the 
boiler  room." 

But  she  was  adamant ;  and  as  there  are  worse  things 
than  a  mother's  touch  after  battle,  fire  and  sudden 
death,  I  remained  cheerfully  in  seclusion,  awake  all 
night,  counting  the  sights  I  could  see  through  my  port- 
hole. 

My  newly  adopted  proved  so  strong  on  propriety 
and  so  weak  where  it  came  to  preferring  herself  be- 
fore others  —  notably  me  —  I  was  thoroughly  amused 
as  well  as  bemused.  I  failed  to  get  her  measure  at  all, 
till  she  brought  her  daughters,  weedy  girls  in  blue  serge, 
to  be  presented  to  the  Baroness. 

Gosh!  Other  people  were  going  to  make  me  live 
up  to  that  title! 

"  You've  been  and  gone  and  done  it,  Clarissa,"  I  told 
myself.  "  Absconding  like  a  queen  of  melodrama, 
with  the  spotlight  turned  upon  your  exit.  Hasn't 
Henri  warned  you  many  times  and  oft?  Didn't  faith- 
ful Tom  lead  you  gently  to  the  fountain  head  of  lost 
identity?  Recollect  his  words.  '  Safest  name  on 
earth  —  drab  as  a  city  sparrow.  Wise  guys  picking  it 
up  in  a  register  pass  the  wink  —  but  at  the  same  time 
there's  the  ghost  of  a  chance  of  having  been  born 
Brown.'  Apologies,  Tom.  You  can  sure  lead  a  don- 
key to  the  trough,  but  you  can't  make  her  learn." 

From  my  inside  knowledge  I  judged  the  original  Bar- 
oness might  have  been  fleeing  too,  and  I  panted  to  read 


230  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

her  private  correspondence.  My  plans  were  vague  but 
comprehensive.  First  to  know  where  the  old  lady  had 
been  expected  —  and  then  to  travel  in  a  far  direction. 
For  the  moment  even  so  much  was  held  in  abeyance. 
Mrs.  Higsbie  had  given  my  pocketbook  to  the  purser, 
so  she  said,  and  no  amount  of  pleasant  asking  egged 
her  up  to  getting  it  again.  Confusion  bore  the  blame, 
but  I  verily  believe  she  held  it  back  as  a  guarantee  of 
chaperoning  me  on  shore  and  thus  cementing  social 
friendship;  her  imagination  grasped  tenaciously  the 
God-given  chance  —  everything  else  would  be  accord- 
ing to  my  least  suggestion,  as  became  a  High-and- 
Mightiness.  Therefore  the  excellent  lady  removed  my 
valuables  with  one  hand  and  offered  me  her  best  boots 
with  her  other.  I  had  no  choice  but  surrender.  Shoes 
on  my  feet  might  lead  to  a  noose  about  my  neck  —  a 
Baroness  in  stockings  was  ridiculous. 

Three  items  stand  to  my  London  credit.  I  examined 
the  von  Rathgartz  papers,  wrote  a  bulletin  to  date  for 
Howard,  clearing  Angelica  and  exonerating  the  classic 
name  of  Griggs,  and  bought  rubber.  The  boom  was 
nearing  its  zenith.  Sitting  in  a  brokers  office  watch- 
ing yourself  grow  richer  by  hundreds  of  pounds  every 
hour  is  some  fun  —  Henri  thought  so !  We  went  batty 
about  rubber.  I  cabled  Swanhill  to  sell  railway  and 
steel  stock,  and  we  bought  our  beans  off. 

That's  about  all  I  saw  of  the  smoky  city.  We  car- 
ried away  a  very  happy  impression,  but,  nevertheless, 
it's  Paris  for  mine!  Her  lure  got  me  in  Bain  &  Ding- 
ley's.  Every  girl  behind  a  counter  sees  golden  halos 
ringing  the  magic  word.  Most  of  them  would  have 
called  it  a  toss  between  Paris  and  heaven  —  with  long 
odds  on  Paris  as  a  temporary  choice. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  231 

Considering  the  way  we  fitted  in,  Henri  must  have 
spent  a  lot  of  time  and  money  in  the  French  capital 
previous  to  my  acquaintance.  For  a  week  he  let  me 
riot,  then  tired  of  dissipation,  we  shut  our  purses, 
opened  our  eyes,  and  I  really  began  to  enjoy  the  place. 
"  Whence  her  charm?  "  I  asked  myself.  "  Our  shops 
are  as  smart  and  larger;  our  women  are  as  beautiful 
and  larger  also;  our  traffic  is  as  congested  and  noisier; 
our  opera  as  excellent  and  more  expensive ;  our  every- 
thing much,  oh,  much  more  expensive  —  yet  we  don't 
get  the  rhythm."  In  the  end  I  answered  with  a  truism 
—  Paris  is  inhabited  by  Frenchmen.  Music  throbs  in 
a  Frenchman's  pulse,  gaiety  twitches  his  toes  —  Henri's 
twitched  me  through  some  odd  corners  out  of  sym- 
pathy, but  he  surprised  me  so  much  in  other  matters  he 
selected  to  enjoy  —  such  as  picture  shows  —  I  forgave 
him  all  past  issues. 

I  couldn't  guess  whether  my  second  was  lying  low 
for  more  mischief,  or,  now  that  he  had  money  to  burn, 
would  be  content  with  living  as  a  gentleman.  The  un- 
timely end  of  the  Baroness  von  Rathgartz  had  taken  a 
reef  in  our  vengeance.  De  Grasse  had  been  wildly  ex- 
cited over  the  idea  of  reading  her  papers;  at  least  I 
blamed  it  on  him,  but  maybe  I'm  the  romantic  chump. 
Anyway  somebody  worked  us  into  a  fine  heat  about 
nothing  —  for  that's  what  it  proved  to  be  —  the  key,  a 
letter  of  credit,  and  a  bunch  of  family  documents. 
The  old  sinner  was  far  too  cute  to  commit  herself  in 
black  and  white.  And  I  decided  to  take  a  leaf  out  of 
her  book.  The  papers  which  were  of  an  intricate  char- 
acter proved  a  dozen  living  interests,  and  with  them 
was  one  sheet  closely  written  in  Yiddish.  Not  daring 
to  have  it  translated,  I  regarded  the  latter  as  an  inno- 


232  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

cent  person  might  look  on  the  outside  of  a  time-bomb, 
not  knowing  whether  it  was  set ;  and,  when  the  chance 
offered,  I  threw  the  whole  lot  into  the  Channel.  Let 
her  affairs  drown  with  her  —  their  proximity  made  me 
jumpy.  By  way  of  souvenir  I  kept  the  key  and  the 
old  woman's  words  reverberating  in  my  ears.  A  Fritz, 
a  Schlossgartz,  and  a  little  gray  dispatch  box  existed 
somewhere  —  but  Henri  didn't  show  the  slightest  in- 
terest. 

Instead  of  ramping  off  on  this  fresh  trail,  de  Grasse 
seemed  bent  on  offering  himself  as  a  sacrifice;  he  laid 
himself  out  to  perfect  me.  We  went  to  the  corsetiere's 
together,  we  progressed  from  shop  to  shop  —  I  was 
never  so  happy  before.  We  studied  the  thing  at  hand 
and  improved  upon  it ;  our  equipage  began  to  occasion 
remark.  Then  he  whispered  in  my  ear  the  necessity 
of  a  maid. 

"  Nothing  doing,"  I  said.  "  You  ought  to  know  I 
don't  like  being  pawed  over." 

"  You  have  never  been  touched  by  experienced  hands 
—  ah,  exquisite !  There  is  just  the  person  — " 

"Shut  up!" 

It  beats  the  Dutch  how,  if  you  ever  start  talking  about 
a  luxury,  some  darned  fool  extravagance  you  don't  half 
want,  that  thing  will  nag  at  you  until  it  grows  to  be  a 
vital  need.  Henri  commenced  to  point  out  the  differ- 
ence between  my  hair  and  the  heads  surrounding  us  at 
the  opera.  I  capitulated,  and  I  must  confess,  though  I 
did  pretty  well  in  hats,  the  smartest  of  all  my  invest- 
ments in  Paris  was  Annette  —  small,  dark,  distract- 
ingly  lovely,  and  as  dishonest  as  it  is  possible  to  be  and 
keep  out  of  prison.  Adopting  an  orphan  from  the 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  233 

Carbothia  would  have  been  play  compared  to  under- 
taking such  a  spark. 

From  the  moment  her  trim  high-heeled  shoe  stepped 
over  the  threshold  she  became  my  cricket  on  the  hearth. 
Bright  eyes,  light  words,  coquetry  and  grace  awaited 
Madame's  coming.  She  was  equally  happy  to  occupy 
the  front  seat  of  the  touring  car,  or  to  walk  a  couple  of 
paces  in  the  rear  exercising  Mimi-Frou-Frou,  the  latest 
addition  to  our  family.  And  the  way  that  girl  made 
me  look  —  the  way  she  turned  me  out !  I  had  simply 
never  been  dressed  before,  my  clothes  had  been  pitch- 
forked into  place.  She  grafted  more  distinction  on  to 
me  in  five  days  than  I  could  have  achieved  alone  in  as 
many  centuries.  If  you  want  to  be  a  perfect  lady,  get 
a  perfect  maid. 

Everything  was  running  on  ball  bearings  till  one 
morning  I  dashed  into  the  salon,  and  discovered  the 
beautiful  creature  in  the  arms  of  the  valet  de  chambre. 
Of  course,  it  was  my  fault,  as  she  tactfully  explained;  I 
should  have  given  her  warning.  All  the  jealousy 
Henri  is  capable  of  rushed  to  my  temples.  I  stormed 
—  I  reproved,  while  Annette  continued  to  look  plain- 
tive, thoroughly  satisfied  with  herself  and  her  late  posi- 
tion :  "  What  would  I  wish  —  hein?  " 

De  Grasse  wished  but  one  thing  —  to  separate  her 
from  the  valet.  We  moved  and  peace  reigned  for  the 
moment. 

Unfortunately  the  night  clerk  was  a  personable 
young  man  with  too  many  daylight  hours  hanging  idle 
on  his  hands.  We  changed  our  address  again.  Next 
time  it  was  the  waiter  who  mounted  my  little  breakfast. 
Fearing  the  first  class  hotels  wouldn't  be  numerous 


234  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

enough  to  stand  the  racket  I  grew  crafty.  I  left  doors 
ajar,  I  pounced  upon  her  in  unexpected  places.  And 
for  my  pains  I  learned  Annette's  waking  hours  were 
one  triumphal  progress  of  flirtation.  She  flirted  with 
my  chauffeur,  a  respectable  married  man;  she  flirted 
with  the  footman  till  I  fired  him.  She  made  eyes  at 
the  proprietor  and  caressed  the  bell-boys.  She  lingered 
before  the  statue  of  Apollo,  admired  the  dummies  in  a 
tailor's  window,  and  even  tried  to  cajole  Le  Pcnseur. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  —  we  must  leave  Paris.  The 
idea  of  giving  up  Annette  never  entered  my  head,  so  I 
arranged  to  take  the  night  train  south. 

My  maid  was  delighted.  Her  last  mistress  had  win- 
tered at  Nice.  "  Ah !  It  was  such  a  beauti  f ul  place, 
Nice !  Would  Madame  expect  her  to  travel  second  ?  " 

No.  Madame  wouldn't.  "  You're  bunking  right 
alongside  me,  Annette,  and  with  the  doors  open  so  I 
can  keep  my  eye  on  you." 

"  Excellent,  Madame." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

From  the  day  Charley  Ross  paid  me  over  my  share 
of  the  Lelland  purchase,  I  had  felt  a  sneaking  desire  to 
go  to  Monte  Carlo;  and  now,  although  the  labels  on 
our  fifty  trunks  advertised  Menton,  I  knew  without 
asking  where  we  would  alight.  The  thought  of  bac- 
carat was  to  de  Grasse  like  a  red  rag  to  a  bull,  or  male 
attire  to  Annette,  so  scenting  the  battle  from  afar  we 
landed  in  the  gambler's  heaven. 

Never  having  seen  any  tropics,  except  New  York  in 
summer,  Monaco  thrilled  me.  I  adored  the  blueness  of 
the  blue  and  the  greenness  of  the  greenery.  And  say ! 
It's  some  town  for  spending  money !  Only  the  cream 
de  cream  in  the  shops  —  not  a  scallop,  not  a  button,  not 
a  shade  but  makes  one's  teeth  water.  A  f  ter  a  dull  win- 
ter in  the  north,  color  and  light  went  to  my  head.  I 
wallowed  by  day,  and  Henri  wallowed  at  night,  spurred 
on  by  a  persistent  run  of  luck.  We  broke  about  even. 
Every  centime  flowing  in  to  him  across  the  tables 
flowed  back  to  doll  the  Baroness ! 

Position,  easy  money,  and  Annette's  finish  on  the 
article  introduced  me  to  the  limelight.  I  was  talked  of 
—  my  aura  permeated  —  soon  I  found  myself  in  a  de- 
lightful eddy  with  a  lively  group  supporting  a  certain 
Mrs.  Sue  Mainardy  and  Sue's  husband  —  Americans 
living  abroad,  Baltimore  originally,  but  now  nearly 
Europeanized.  I  liked  them,  man  and  woman,  as  well 

235 


236  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

as  any  harnessed  team  I've  ever  met.  Their  long  suit 
was  low  voices,  elegant  manners,  and  any  amount  of 
sophistication.  But  a  blue-eyed  kid  niece  gave  her 
elders  away  right  and  left.  She  was  a  riot,  and  Henri 
and  I  loved  her.  We  loved  them  all. 

One  evening,  the  Mainardys  and  our  bunch  had  ven- 
tured their  last  louis  and  were  fixing  to  depart.  Very 
late  it  was,  already  play  had  stopped  except  on  the 
table  by  which  we  stood.  All  at  once  the  doors  opened 
impressively  from  without.  An  amazed  few  of  us 
turned  to  see  who  came  so  late.  The  instant's  expecta- 
tion needed  only  an  event  to  make  it  most  dramatic, 
and  then,  as  if  to  crystallize  the  moment,  a  voice  called 
boldly  from  the  threshold, 

"Banquet " 

"  Est-il  possible?  Ccs  Amcricalns!"  murmured  a 
princeling,  while  I  stood  staring  at  the  new  comers, 
open  mouthed. 

The  taller  gave  one  an  impression  of  a  walking  skele- 
ton. He  must  have  been  near  seventy.  Excessively 
smart  clothes  contrived  to  hang  loosely  over  his  bony 
frame  without  sacrificing  a  jot  of  style.  He  carried 
himself  very  erect,  but  his  cheeks  sagged,  and  the  flesh 
wrinkled  at  his  Adam's  apple.  He  wore  a  monocle, 
grimly  refused  to  acknowledge  the  claims  of  a  gouty 
foot,  and  twisted  the  long  ends  of  his  moustaches  with 
crumpled  fingers.  I  don't  believe  I  ever  saw  him  — 
and  I  learned  enough  of  him  later,  heaven  witness  — 
when  he  wasn't  nervously  twirling  or  twisting  some- 
thing. From  watery  eyes  half  hidden  under  heavy 
lids,  this  old  fossil  regarded  the  room  with  cold,  ironical 
humor. 

His  companion  —  the  man  who  had  called  banque, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  237 

thereby  taking  to  himself  without  inquiry  the  full 
chances  of  the  table  —  was  William  Duffy. 

He  made  directly  toward  me,  hands  extended  like  a 
bosom  friend,  and  his  voice  which  had  boomed  above 
the  waters,  fairly  bellowed  in  the  spacious  chamber. 

"  Well  met !  Well  met !  Little  Willie  had  a  notion 
we  might  run  across  each  other  hereabouts.  Mark  it ! 
—  I'm  never  wrong.  But  I've  been  to  America  and 
back  since  parting.  Not  my  fault.  They  just  took 
me.  What  did  I  tell  you?  Those  that  ought  to  be 
saved  will  be  saved  —  in  spite  of  themselves,  ha,  ha ! 
Much  gold  wouldn't  turn  her  face  towards  Mecca,  so  I 
looped  the  loop  to  Jersey,  and  once  on  Uncle  Sam's 
sod,  business  nailed  me.  That's  why  I  haven't  yet 
handed  in  my  card  for  entry."  He  glanced  at  the  men 
assembled.  "  I  do  it  now  though  —  on  the  minute. 
This  race  looks  like  crowding  at  the  post.  Ha,  ha !  " 

I  was  overwhelmed  with  embarrassment.  What 
would  Sue  Mainardy  think  of  such  a  rank  home  prod- 
uct? What  would  she  think  of  me?  At  least  he  rep- 
resented her  America  as  much  as  mine!  It  was  up 
to  her  to  help.  I  hadn't  a  ghost  of  a  chance  to  cut 
Duffy.  He  was  too  darned  sure  of  himself.  His  en- 
trance had  made  an  impression,  and  his  jubilance 
rather  took.  Everybody  turned  to  watch.  Moreover 
he  was  keeping  the  game  waiting. 

"  I'm  no  quitter,  you'll  find  out.  And  I've  a  long 
start  on  some  —  eh  ?  No  time  for  fooling  at  that ! 
Precious  lucky  we  dropped  in  here  to-night.  We 
might  have  missed  you.  My  chum  said  it  was  too 
late,  but  I  said,  '  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Get  into  your  glad 
rags  and  hop  along,' —  and  here  we  are.  We'd  just 
arrived  from  Genoa  by  motor,  and  my  friend  — " 


238  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Remembering  the  claims  of  comradeship,  he  nipped  his 
story  in  the  bud.  "  Where  is  he?  —  Ah,  let  me  pre- 
sent my  friend!  Shake  hands  with  the  Baron  von 

Rathgartz." 

******** 

The  stars  are  what  I  saw ! 

Duffy  loved  a  title.  His  clear  utterances  sent 
"  Baron  "  ringing  to  the  rafters;  and  from  an  immense 
distance  I  heard  it  thrown  back.  Sound  rained  upon 
me,  crashing  in  the  ruins  of  my  house  of  glass. 

The  aristocrat  folded  himself  over  in  a  low  obeisance, 
and  chattering  teeth  hummed  an  accompaniment  to  my 
stunned  salute. 

Was  this  her  husband?  —  MY  HUSBAND? 

Crude  instinct  bade  me  fly  —  vanish  —  skidoo.  I 
cared  not  whither  —  through  the  floor  or  upward.  All 
routes  looked  alike  and  welcome.  I  reckoned  time  and 
distance  for  a  sprint  to  the  door,  and  our  relative  strate- 
gic positions.  While  I  was  thus  mentally  engaged, 
reason  flashed  me  her  S.  O.  S. —  Duffy  didn't  know  my 
name!  In  spite  of  blatant  fellowship,  he  knew  no 
designation  for  me  real  or  false.  His  opening  imper- 
tinence remained  unanswered,  thanks  to  Tom,  and  I 
had  not  told  him  when  he  hinted  on  the  raft.  The 
odds  were  all  against  his  having  found  opportunity, 
amid  the  hammer  strokes  of  business  in  America,  to 
look  me  up.  My  plight,  therefore,  became  a  question 
of  skating  over  thin  ice.  It  was  a  delicate  situation  in- 
deed —  one  to  be  carried  by  cool  nerve.  With  alert- 
ness and  ready  turns  of  phrase,  giving  the  Baron  no 
chance  to  put  in  an  oar,  I  might  get  the  introduction 
over,  make  them  all  acquainted  with  each  other,  and 
make  good  my  escape.  We  need  not  meet  again.  Set- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  239 

tling  with  Sue  and  society  would  be  a  good  twelve- 
baskets  full  left  from  this  little  love  feast,  but  once  out 
of  here  the  fragments  would  at  least  lie  scattered. 

Sheer  relief  at  this  remembrance  bowed  my  lips  and 
sent  loud  laughter  reverberating  through  the  room. 
Sue  started.  Duffy  beamed.  My  mirth  rang  hollow 
death  blows  on  good  taste,  but  noise  assured  him  of  a 
conquest. 

Thought  moves  quicker  than  a  clock-tick.  After 
these  mental  gymnastics  I  opened  my  mouth  to  continue 
the  proceedings  hitchless  —  and  shut  it  again.  For  at 
that  minute,  the  kid's  voice,  youthfully  raw,  treacher- 
ously keen,  rising  like  a  boy  soprano's  high  above  the 
limit  of  suppression,  sang  a  tardy  echo  of  the  stranger's 
final  word. 

"  Von  Rathgartz !  Baron  von  Rathgartz  ?  Say ! 
She's  the  Baroness  von  Rathgartz.  They  must  be  mar- 
ried!" 

In  the  profound  hush  following,  the  monocle  of  my 
aristocratic  spouse  was  heard  to  clatter  on  his  waistcoat 
buttons.  Surprise  had  twitched  it  from  its  socket,  but 
with  admirable  presence  of  mind  he  let  her  swing,  pre- 
tending to  have  shed  the  bauble  by  an  act  of  will,  and 
dropped  his  eyelids  ambushing  expression. 

I  drew  my  chin  to  the  fighting  level.  One  way  of 
showing  fear  if  they  had  known,  but  indignation 
seemed  more  meet.  My  impulse  passed  for  hauteur. 
It  worked  havoc  with  the  old  boy.  Smiting  his  hand 
hard  where  anything  but  a  skeleton  would  have  had  a 
stomach  he  doubled  in  a  spasm,  a  record-breaking  bow, 
murmuring  of  "  the  honor." 

"  A  landslide!  "  chirped  the  matchmaker. 

"  An  uncommon  name,"  somebody  suggested. 


240  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

The  Baron  bowed  again.  "  Most  uncommon,"  he 
answered  in  excellent  English.  "  Madame  and  I  are 
the  last  of  the  line." 

How  much  did  the  inclusion  indicate  ?  "  Oh,  why 
in  a  city  of  forty-five  million,  oh,  why  do  you  pick  upon 
me?"  I  whistled  the  air  between  clenched  teeth.  No, 
I  couldn't  have  whistled  that  air  because  it  wasn't  writ- 
ten then,  but  I  whistled  the  miserable  idea,  while  his 
Nibs  regarded  me  with  knife-blade  penetration. 

He  was  manager.  He  was  handing  out  the  parts  — 
roling  the  cast  in  topsy-turvydom.  I  realized  he 
spotted  me  for  an  impostor,  and  he  knew  that  I  knew 
he  knew.  The  fear  of  his  breaking  loose,  doing  or 
saying  something  to  give  me  dead  away,  had  passed. 
I  saw  he  was  a  different  type.  A  man  rooted  and 
grounded  in  forms  and  ceremonies  —  not  one  to  make 
a  scene,  nor  one  to  leap  before  looking.  Up  to  the 
present  he  had  neither  acknowledged  nor  denied  me. 
And  I  felt  sure  he  would  avoid  the  issue  until  he  be- 
came perfectly  certain  on  which  side  his  greatest  ad- 
vantage lay. 

Assured  the  lion  wasn't  crouched  to  leap,  I  instantly 
became  aware  of  pussy's  claws.  The  Mainardys  had 
faded  to  a  safe  and  inconspicuous  distance.  My 
Princeling  suitor,  endeavoring  to  gather  penciled  eye- 
brows across  a  stormy  front  in  dreadful  anger,  was  so 
preoccupied  with  the  part  he  forgot  me.  Duffy  had 
already  joined  the  tables,  and  the  Terror,  highly  satis- 
fied with  her  recent  discovery,  had  followed  to  watch 
his  luck.  So  long  as  that  determined  young  person 
stayed  we  were  bound  to  chaperone  —  at  least  Sue  was, 
and  I  wouldn't  quit  till  my  cue.  I  was  equally  scared 
to  show  fright  by  running  away,  and  scared  to  linger 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  241 

on.  Small  fry  talked  to  me,  sifted  through  and  joined 
the  Baron.  No  one  seemed  anxious  to  mark  our  sepa- 
ration openly,  nor  yet  at  ease  while  including  both  of  us 
in  the  same  pocket  of  conversation.  Evidently  he  and 
I  had  quarrelled.  We  were  mismated;  we  were  sur- 
prised to  meet  —  they  drew  their  own  conclusions. 
Imagination  outran  facts,  and  cackle  grew  desultory. 
In  spurts  wit  lashed  itself  to  frenzied  nothings.  But 
when  the  game  broke  up,  and  Duffy's  boom  arrested 
everybody's  speech,  men  and  women  expanded  their 
stays  with  a  huge  sigh  of  relief. 

William  Wratson  had  won,  and  true  to  his  country's 
form  desired  to  put  up  the  drinks.  He  must  treat. 
Natural  crassness  fired  by  success  helped  him  to  knock 
out  such  little  obstacles  as  other  people's  mental  com- 
fort on  the  first  round,  as  though  he  had  been  swatting 
flies.  He  must  treat !  Yes.  Yes !  He  must  treat  the 
whole  crowd!  We  must  drink  our  safe  preservation 
—  his  and  mine.  He  commenced  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  wreck,  and  interrupted  it  to  form  his  party.  We 
must  drink  his  winning!  Not  to  celebrate  success 
would  foul  the  luck  to-morrow.  There  was  no  gain- 
saying the  man. 

Personally  I  trembled  to  refuse  and  perhaps  put  the 
Baron's  back  up.  Sue  had  tried  to  pry  her  responsi- 
bility loose  and  failed.  The  kid  stuck  a  hand  under 
Duffy's  arm,  and  his  closed  over  it.  Hangers-on,  of 
both  sexes,  watched  the  cat  jump  with  satisfaction, 
glad  to  get  a  supper  at  anybody's  expense.. 

We  were  no  sooner  in  the  restaurant  than  a  game  of 
tag  began  around  the  table.  Duffy  wanted  a  place  by 
me.  Grass-widowhood,  or  divorce,  or  genteel  indif- 
ference —  however  you  figure  the  von  Rathgartz  family 


242  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

situation  —  didn't  phase  him  —  not  a  little  bit.  The 
Kid  had  gone  dippy  about  William  Watson  and  showed 
it,  stalking  his  every  motion.  Principality  and  Power, 
represented  by  the  fair  and  perfumed  males,  always 
fought  over  Clarissa ;  and  she  in  turn  was  actuated  by  a 
single  thought  —  to  camp  beside  Sue's  precious  squab 
and  kick  her  young  shins  black  and  purple  at  her  first 
hint  of  springing  any  more  matrimonial  agency  stuff. 

A  man  ought  to  know  his  limit.  Duffy  had  calcu- 
lated his  early  in  life,  and  not  yet  reached  it.  Along 
the  lines  of  giving  a  dog  his  due  he  can  reap  special 
bouquets  for  carrying  that  party  on  the  crest  of  a  tidal 
wave.  If  noise  is  any  symptom  of  joy,  our  spirits 
touched  delirium.  The  Baron  devoted  himself  to  Mrs. 
Mainardy.  Common  decency  had  placed  us  far 
asunder,  opposite  in  fact,  and  each  time  I  chanced  to 
glance  that  way,  I  caught  the  face  of  his  monocle  glar- 
ing at  me.  Perhaps  it  was  only  a  trick  in  reflected 
rays,  but  it  looked  mighty  like  the  evil  eye.  I  shud- 
dered. He  was  so  concrete,  so  indisputable,  so  much 
cock  of  the  walk.  I  felt  myself  shrinking  visibly.  My 
courage  oozed,  the  shoes  pinched.  I'd  eaten  my  cake 
and  was  about  to  experience  the  consequences,  and, 
like  Alice,  I  longed  to  cry. 

Von  Rathgartz  sat  amid  the  maze  of  tinkling  bril- 
liancy devouring  food  and  considering  me  off  hand,  as 
a  big,  black,  leggy  spider  might  king  it  in  his  web,  say- 
ing to  the  insect  already  caught,  "  Stay  put,  nice  little 
juicy  fellow.  I'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  attend  to  you 
later." 

That  wasn't  the  phrase  he  entangled  me  with  when 
the  party  dissolved  —  but  it  may  as  well  have  been. 
He  was  the  first  to  go  and  made  his  bow  before  two 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  243 

dozen  searching  eyes.  What  choice  had  I,  but  acquies- 
cence to  his  purred  request. 

"  Madame  will  grant  me  the  family  privilege  of  call- 
ing?" 

Noncommittal !  Yes.  And  not  a  touch  of  supplica- 
tion in  the  asking.  His  tone  was  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  pleasant  statement  of  fact.  All  very  polished 
and  agreeable,  till  one  caught  the  smug  grin  stretched 
tight-lipped  upon  a  smoker's  teeth,  half  hidden  by  his 
drooped  moustache. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

I  beat  it  to  my  own  room  and  threw  myself  across 
the  bed,  soul  sick  in  consternation. 

"Family  privilege  of  calling!"  How  about  it? 
What  in  thunder  was  the  old  chap's  game?  To  pass 
me  as  his  wife?  Ridiculous!  Through  claim  of  kin- 
ship to  draw  down  the  ready?  It  must  be  money,  but 
how  could  a  stranger  know  my  circumstances.  Ah! 
Was  the  man  a  stranger?  Why  had  he  come  and 
where  had  he  bagged  Duffy  ?  William  Watson  showed 
all  the  earmarks  of  an  easy  capture.  He  fell-in  for  the 
asking,  but  the  other  walked  with  circumspection  and 
design.  Was  he  the  big  stick  in  Samuel  Jacobs's  hand  ? 
If  so,  I  risked  my  neck  by  staying.  Suppose  I  left  sud- 
denly —  now  —  between  two  days  ?  But  where  would 
I  go  ?  What  sanctuary  offered  for  a  fool  adventuress 
masquerading  under  stolen  honors?  Was  ever  any 
woman  thing  in  such  a  mess !  And  in  Monaco  — 
where  even  suicide  is  counted  as  an  incident ! 

If  the  Baron  was  Jacobs's  man,  he  would  weasel  me 
out,  run  me  to  earth  in  every  port  as  he  had  holed  me 
here;  and  doubtless  he  would  blast  my  reputation  first 
among  my  friends.  A  false  name  is  a  bad  affair  —  but 
oh,  you  little  title!  It  had  not  been  my  intention  to 
collar  social  prestige  under  wrong  pretenses  —  I  had 
.passed  as  a  huge  joke  to  myself  —  but  who  would  be- 
lieve me?  Not  the  sophisticated,  world-wise  Main- 
ardys. 

244 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  245 

What  crazy  gain  had  Henri  hoped  to  win  by  snatch- 
ing that  old  crook's  identity?  And  why,  if  I  kept  her 
name,  hadn't  I  held  on  to  her  papers  ?  The  Baron  had 
something  on  me  sure ;  with  that  yellow  sheet  to  hold 
above  his  head  I  might  have  had  something  on  him. 

I  suddenly  sat  erect. 

"Fritz" — was  his  name  Fritz?  —  and  "  Schloss- 
gartz !  "  Memory  turned  on  a  great  white  light ;  my 
imagination  flamed  over  the  past  and  future.  I  sprang 
off  the  bed,  fumbled  for  my  jewel  case,  and  made  cer- 
tain the  little  key  was  safe.  The  key  to  the  actual  box 
in  the  actual  castle  —  the  key  to  their  secret.  But  was 
it  his  secret?  Had  it  anything  to  do  with  him? 
Who  knew  ?  I  didn't  believe  that  it  had  anything  to 
do  with  Jacobs.  This  was  another  family  privilege, 
and  was  I  going  to  throw  the  chance  away  on  account 
of  cold  feet.  Going  to  run  from  a  man  of  whom  I 
knew  nothing  except  that  he  had  acted  with  great  cir- 
cumspection under  amazing  circumstances. 

I  laughed  at  Caution  whispering  he  might  well  be 
Jacobs's  agent,  as  his  wife  had  been,  and  rang  for 
Annette. 

Of  one  thing  I  was  certain,  the  Baron  was  a  baron. 
He  had  been  received  as  an  habitue  and  folks  here 
knew  the  Almanac  de  Gotha  like  a  traffic  cop. 

Noon  brought  reassurance  and  a  morning  head.  I 
determined  to  hug  my  rooms  till  the  monster  should  ar- 
rive. If  the  old  grandee  was  a  crook,  he  would  pretty 
surely  have  a  vulnerable  spot  around  his  pocket ;  travel- 
ing with  a  spender  such  as  William  Watson  bespoke 
the  indigent  or  miserly  —  and  if  he  was  not,  it  seemed 
the  cards  were  all  in  my  hand.  Having  made  up  my 
mind,  the  opera-bouffe  might  cost  me  heavily  in  riches 


246  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

or  reputation,  I  was  determined  to  see  it  through,  and 
proceeded  to  copy  the  score,  and  mail  the  same  to  How- 
ard Griggs,  while  I  waited. 

"  The  brother  of  Madame,  doubtless?  "  Annette  sug- 
gested, presenting  the  Baron's  card.  "  Madame  does 
not  resemble  him  at  all  except  in  the  good  style.  Ah,  it 
was  unmistakable  Monsieur  was  of  the  best  society. 
But  certainment  —  qucl  stupide!  Monsieur  would  be 
le  beau- fr ere  de  Madame  —  n'est  ce  pas?  " 

How  stupid  I  had  been  not  to  think  of  passing  for 
his  sister  or  his  sister-in-law  —  or  his  daughter.  I 
received  him  with  a  grin ! 

My  visitor  stood  some  six  foot  two,  and  every  inch 
in  sjght,  from  the  fairish  gray  hair  combed  up  to  cover 
an  otherwise  bald  dome  to  the  square  ends  of  his 
French  shoes,  was  spic  and  span.  Aristocracy  stuck 
out  of  him  in  bunches.  He  was  a  man  of  fashion,  as 
disreputable  a  fellow,  possibly,  as  ever  pinched  past  the 
committee  of  a  gentleman's  club  —  but  a  von  Rath- 
gartz. 

While  I  was  taking  him  in,  I  observed  sharp  glances 
burned  behind  his  lidded  lamps.  Not  an  item  of  the 
show  last  night  or  now  —  my  automobile,  its  liveried 
attendants,  my  salon,  maid,  clothes,  comforts,  escaped 
the  valuation.  In  spite  of  his  affected  indolence,  he 
was  busy  summing  up.  I  appeared  to  be  a  young  thing 
rolling  in  gold,  and  indiscreet  —  receiving  strangers 
alone  in  my  own  room  —  but  that's  where  judgment 
skidded.  Well,  I  knew  Annette  would  be  hovering 
within  call,  her  ear  glued  to  the  keyhole. 

My  method  is  to  have  trouble  out  and  over  with.  I 
held  no  weapon  but  the  blunt  truth,  and  the  blunter  the 
better  for  knocking,  so  I  let  fly. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  247 

"  Baron,  you  ask  for  the  family  privilege  of  calling; 
you  honor  me  with  an  early  visit,  and  yet  you  are  per- 
fectly aware  that  I  don't  possess  the  ghost  of  a  right  to 
use  your  name.  What  about  it?  " 

He  bowed  gravely.  "  Doubtless  Madame  has  her 
reasons  for  the  —  intrusion.  If  she  wishes  to  inform 
me,  I  shall  consider  it  a  mark  of  confidence,  if  not  — " 
He  shrugged. 

Was  ever  any  one  so  delicately  generous?  But  his 
drawl  continued: 

"  On  a  certain  point  I  cannot  be  mistaken.  There 
sits  here  by  you,  positive  as  death,  the  last  of  the  von 
Rathgartz.  Honor  depended  on  that  fact  a  dozen 
years  ago.  The  law  searched  far  and  wide.  We  did 
not  find  so  much  as  a  natural  son  of  my  father." 

Mental  note :  chances  of  wiggling  by  as  a  connection 
absolutely  nil.  Whatever  front  I  hereafter  present  to 
Monaco  will  be  at  his  dictation.  The  man's  coolness 
floored  me.  I  wished  he  had  not  talked  of  "  honor  " 
and  the  "  law,"  and  said  "  positive  as  death  "  as  though 
referring  to  a  state  of  mind.  I  saw  I  must  preserve 
the  social  form  alive.  The  most  complimentary 
course,  under  the  circumstances,  would  be  to  tell  him 
my  story.  In  his  subtle,  polite  way  he  had  almost  de- 
manded an  explanation  —  a  matter  of  tones,  not 
phrases,  for  he  spoke  volumes  in  a  sentence. 

De  Grasse  is  some  little  speaker  too;  he  can  serve  a 
few  mitigating  clauses,  without  the  sauce  of  detail,  and 
make  them  a  tit-bit  to  be  swallowed  by  the  most  fas- 
tidious. I  dropped  my  chin  and  my  words  came  sepa- 
rately, slowly,  flute  notes,  pianissimo  in  shame,  and 
sweet  as  honey. 

"  When    young  —  a    child  —  I    married    foolishly. 


248  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

He  called  himself  the  Baron  von  Rathgartz.  There 
are  many  —  very  many  —  impostors  in  the  United 
States.  He  was  dashing,  generous,  well  mannered  — 
and  I  had  no  one  to  look  after  me.  Six  months  later  I 
discovered  —  he  left  me  —  but  my  friends  knew  noth- 
ing. The  name  alone  saved  me  from  —  disgrace." 

Beauty  in  distress  visibly  touched  my  hearer's  heart. 
His  lids  drooped  lower,  tears  glistened  beneath  them. 
His  voice  was  myrrh. 

"  Do  not  apologize,  I  pray  you.  My  humble  name  is 
at  your  service  now  and  always,  lovely  lady.  It  is  I 
who  must  apologize  for  not  having  been  in  America  in- 
stead of  that  worthless  dog.  And  last  night  —  in  the 
Casino  —  surprise  took  me  unawares.  I  am  humor- 
ous, and  the  temptation,  I  ask  you  to  consider  the 
temptation  to  own,  for  even  a  few  hours,  one  so  per- 
fect, beautiful,  elegant  —  Ah !  it  was  not  to  be  resisted, 
Madame.  Pardon." 

I  laughed  at  his  rush  of  words,  his  profound  bow. 
After  all  he  seemed  a  kind  old  thing.  He  had  not 
come  to  pester  me  nor  armed  with  a  writ  for  my  arrest. 
The  pendulum  swung  over.  I  accepted  the  blase  roue 
at  the  face  value  of  his  conversation. 

"  Referring  to  your  affairs,  Madame,  I  understand. 
Each  has  his  own  trouble.  We  will  not  mention  it 
again.  C'est  fini.  But  that  a  child,  with  all  this  — " 
motioning  airily  to  include  the  rooms,  "  should  have  no 
guardian!  Ces  Americans!  They  are  incredible." 

How  easy  his  manner,  how  mannerly  his  ease !  The 
terrible  plight  of  my  maidenhood  was  wafted  into  for- 
get fulness.  By  a  gracious  turn  of  phrase  he  con- 
doned me  and  spread  my  sin  on  the  nation.  And  I 
was  jubilant,  poor  simp !  I  believed  he  had  swallowed 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  249 

the  bait.  I  felt  sure  he  could  not  be  Jacobs's  agent,  and 
my  vanity  plunged  into  the  trap. 

"  We  are  a  bit  incredible,"  I  boasted.  "  But  not  in 
the  sense  you  mean.  I  was  poor  when  I  married. 
This  is  the  fruit  of  honest  toil  —  it's  mines  and  rub- 
ber." 

"  Ah !  The  Baroness  is  in  rubber  ?  "  he  beamed  ap- 
proval. 

"  To  the  neck.  Bought  at  the  start  and  have  been 
buying  all  the  way  along.  Honest,  I  don't  even  know 
how  much  of  the  stock  I'm  good  for  —  but  she's  still 
mounting." 

My  guest  shook  his  head.  "  Dangerous  speculation. 
I  see  you  are  a  gambler.  With  so  much,  why  do  you 
not  begin  to  sell  ?  I  would  advise,  Madame.  Brokers 
are  none  too  honest,  when  it's  a  lady's  loss  —  and  no 
challenger." 

"  Pistols  for  two  and  coffee  for  one.  Great  old  sys- 
tem. What  a  bloody  battle  the  Exchange  would  be  if 
we  lived  up  to  it.  Since  I  haven't  a  living  relative  to 
fight,  I  guess  I'd  better  unload." 

Too  late  I  realized  the  oily  old  insinuator's  drift.  A 
girl  and  her  money  are  soon  parted  —  specially  if 
there's  nobody  round  to  raise  a  row  about  it.  But  he 
was  counting  without  de  Grasse.  I  smiled. 

All  in  all  the  Baron  proved  a  very  cheerful  caller. 
He  chirped  delightfully  on  almost  any  topic,  steadily 
preserving  the  buoyant  action  of  a  thoroughbred. 
More  and  more  concern  fell  from  me.  He  certainly 
did  not  represent  the  law ;  he  came  with  no  fell  inten- 
tion. He  came  with  no  intention  whatever,  it  ap- 
peared, but  to  suggest  an  expedition  for  the  following 
morning  —  of  course  with  my  friends.  If  I  wanted 


250  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

to  find  out  the  secret  of  Schlossgartz,  there  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  accept.  He  set  the  hour  at  eleven  and 
rose  to  go  —  and  on  his  going  dropped  a  sentence  like 
a  bomb. 

"  It  was  divorce  I  mentioned  to  Madame  Mainardy. 
You  will  pardon,  but  a  plausible  relationship  was  neces- 
sary. You  were  surprised  —  pained  —  at  least  not 
well  pleased  at  the  meeting.  Divorce  is  a  perfect  ex- 
planation. Inasmuch  as  I  have  wronged  this  charm- 
ing lady,  I  am  in  the  dust.  I  promise  you  —  I  will  let 
them  understand  my  penitence  —  I  only  am  to  blame. 
They  shall  see  me  grovel." 

Now  what  do  you  think  about  that ! 

The  colossal  gall  dumfounded  me,  and  before  I  re- 
covered from  my  blank  surprise  he  was  gone. 

Last  night's  panic  was  as  child's  play  to  my  present 
anger.  He  had  told  Sue  Mainardy  a  devilish  lie  —  had 
told  it  with  tears.  He  had  queered  me  in  her  eyes  by 
the  readiness  of  his  own  confidence.  And  then  he  had 
called,  and  been  received,  and  had  spent  an  hour  in  my 
private  salon  —  how  could  I  refuse  to  meet  him? 

Villain!  Thrice  damned  —  but,  oh,  a  genius! 
Down  to  the  last  jot  and  tittle  I  would  be  made  to  act 
the  offended  wife,  and  receive  his  humble  attentions. 
But  why  ?  Jacobs  could  not  care  for  such  revenge ; 
and  short  of  Jacobs  what  quarrel  had  the  man  with 
me? 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Moods  were  badly  mixed  from  thenceforth,  and  our 
game  of  tag  around  the  table  grew  to  habit,  for  Henri's 
sporting  blood  was  up.  He  stayed  to  fight  von  Rath- 
gartz;  the  lists  were  all  Monaco;  and  our  public  soon 
took  sides. 

Whatever  my  tormentor  said  to  Sue  worked  havoc  in 
her  womanly  sympathies.  Where  it  had  been 
"  Clarissa,"  it  was  now  "  dear  —  Baroness."  An  ad- 
der's sting!  My  divorced  state  she  thought  ought  to 
have  been  mentioned  between  friends.  And  quaintly, 
and  the  wonder  is  sincerely,  held  to  bring  about  reunion 
with  my  poor,  heartbroken,  gallant,  sorry,  fascinating 
husband  would  count  a  worthy  work  of  supereroga- 
tion. 

Matchmaking  kept  her  busy  those  days,  for  the  kid 
still  haunted  Duffy,  and  our  compatriot,  who  was  win- 
ning and  spending  at  a  terrific  rate,  so  reeked  of  money 
it  behooved  a  wily  aunt  to  put  her  best  foot  forward. 
His  rampant  commercialism  suggested  an  office  perched 
high  above  the  mart  of  rich  Manhattan,  as  Russians 
conjure  up  the  steppes;  but  William  Watson  was  not 
expansive  over  his  own  affairs.  The  savage  in  him 
made  no  bones  of  snubbing  man,  woman  or  child. 

He  showed  himself  coy  and  disappointed  in  me.  I 
believe  he  despised  my  situation  more  than  I  hated  it 
myself.  A  girl  who  had  had  the  pluck  to  kick  loose 
once  —  to  let  herself  be  steadily  dragged  back  into  the 

251 


252  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

toils?  The  sight  disgusted  his  blatant  independence. 
He  avoided  me,  and  his  cold-shouldering  worked  the 
dickens  with  my  plans.  Duffy  knew  the  ins  and  outs 
of  the  Baron's  business  and  it  was  far  easier  to  pump 
an  unsuspecting  American,  particularly  one  who  dwelt 
on  castled  moats  with  large  enthusiasm,  than  to  trap 
von  Rathgartz  into  details.  Princelings  and  popu- 
larity tripped  me  at  every  move  —  I  turned  savage 
also. 

My  tempers  left  the  Baron  anything  but  disconcerted. 
He  sure  admired  spirit.  He  courted  me  so  assidu- 
ously I  never  had  a  minute  to  myself  except  asleep. 
One  afternoon  I  cajoled  Duffy  into  calling,  and  over 
tea  cups  planned  to  win  my  goal.  But  scarcely  five 
minutes  after  his  arrival,  before  we  got  the  ice  well 
broken  on  the  how-d'you-dos,  the  old  top  pussy- footed 
up.  Heaven  only  knows  how  much  he  tipped  Annette ! 

At  first  he  worked  the  deep  repentance  gag,  and  later 
made  it  look  as  if  I  was  encouraging  a  declaration. 
Flowers,  flowers  all  the  time!  He  snowed  objections 
under  offering  remarks  in  public.  What  had  become 
of  his  poor  posies?  —  if  I  did  not  wear  them  —  and 
smirks  and  grimaces  if  I  did.  By  and  by,  when  every- 
body else  was  aeons  old  in  wisdom,  the  full  farce 
dawned  upon  me.  I  was  being  seriously  wooed. 
Bets  were  being  made.  Gee !  How  I  hated  him ! 
But  I  was  more  than  ever  determined  to  smoke  out  the 
ground-hog. 

In  self-defence  I  commenced  to  propose  wild  esca- 
pades. Desire  for  the  near  impossible,  never  before 
troubling  my  sober  constitution,  suddenly  broke  out 
like  a  rash.  I  absolutely  must  do  this  and  that  —  go 
here  and  there  —  anywhere  that  age  should  hesitate  to 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  253 

follow.  But  age  never  hesitated  —  not  for  single  mo- 
ment; it  just  naturally  mixed  and  coalesced  with  my 
craziest  prank.  Von  Rathgartz  set  himself  to  carry 
through  my  every  whim,  thereby  placing  a  halo  of  mar- 
tyrdom on  his  thin  gray  hair;  and  getting  me  in  all 
wrong. 

"  She's  a  hard  one  to  follow  and  the  devil  to  beat !  " 
I  heard  a  man  remark  to  Sue  Mainardy.  Her  answer 
was  the  more  general  and  less  complimentary  view  of 
our  case. 

"  What  a  dance  she  must  have  led  the  dear  old 
chap." 

I  danced  him  right  enough.  I  was  getting  desper- 
ate. I  fox-trotted  him  from  morn  till  dewy  eve  all  up 
and  down  the  glad  Riviera.  I  dandled  him  from  giddy 
heights,  I  raced  with  him  on  shingly  stretches.  I  was 
hoyden,  termagant,  shrew,  proud  princess,  lofty, 
stupid,  vacant,  boring,  childish  and  never  made  him 
turn  a  hair.  Only  when  I  took  to  gaming,  played 
steep  and  kept  on  playing  though  every  click  of  the 
ivory  ball  stripped  me  of  thousands  did  he  offer  re- 
monstrance. And  that  was  a  rummy  way  to  make  him 
wiggle.  Danger,  fatigue,  trouble  simply  didn't  exist 
for  him  where  I  dictated,  and  the  net  result  of  my 
strenuosity  was  to  land  us  on  strange  expeditions  alone. 

The  last  of  these  was  a  donkey  ride  away  up  in  the 
hills  above  La  Turbie.  It  was  a  stunning  day.  The 
idea  seized  me  at  luncheon,  and  I  threw  down  my 
gauntlet  hoping  Duffy  would  snatch  it,  for  some  ref- 
erences to  the  Carbothia  had  got  him  going  nicely.  He 
did  make  one  convulsive  effort,  while  the  Kid  gave  me 
the  up  and  down.  *  My  heart  jumped  into  my  mouth  — 
this  looked  like  business.  And  then  Mrs.  Mainardy 


254  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

dusted  her  voice  and  reminded  dear  Dolly  that  she  and 
Mr.  Duffy  had  promised  to  carry  a  message  for  her  to 
the  Coalport's  villa.  Rot!  W.  W.  choked  on  his 
mousse.  Sue  gave  him  a  blasting  glance.  He  glow- 
ered back,  caught  sight  of  the  Squab  who  was  wearing 
filmy  white  and  seemed  as  innocent  as  swan's-down,  re- 
considered the  satisfaction  of  murdering  aunty,  and 
left  the  jaunt  to  von  Rathgartz  and  me. 

Of  course  I  had  to  carry  the  thing  through.  We 
were  to  motor  to  La  Turbie  and  my  only  hope  lay  in 
not  finding  any  donkeys.  But  no  such  luck.  I  craned 
my  neck  at  the  last  corner  pretending  to  be  frightfully 
keen  about  them,  and  then  had  to  burble  artificial  joy 
while  the  Baron  bargained  for  the  two  husky  beggars 
dozing  there  in  the  sunshine,  fair,  fat  and  fit  for  a  long 
trek.  The  ebullition  though  insincere  affected  my 
spirits.  Altitude,  fresh  air,  sparkling  light,  a  swift 
flight  in  the  car,  the  broad  grins  of  the  donkey  boy  all 
combined  to  jack  me  up.  The  Baron,  though  always 
unwelcome,  was  never  unpleasant.  He  waxed  quite 
funny  on  occasion,  and  was  in  fine  feather  to-day.  He 
threw  one  leg  over  the  silly  critter's  back  with  as  much 
dignity  as  if  he  had  been  mounting  a  racer  from  the 
King's  stable,  and  a  grand  display  of  humor.  I  must 
own  he  never  allowed  himself  to  play  the  fool. 

Between  this  and  that  we  made  a  good  start.  I  had 
a  sneaking  notion  we  would  both  enjoy  the  outing. 
It's  difficult  to  nurse  antagonism  and  keep  a  dour  mood 
when  descending  to  childish  things.  Watching  the 
Baron's  feet  which  almost  dragged,  and  trying  to  cal- 
culate whether,  by  an  effort,  he  could  stand  on  tip-toe 
and  let  the  animal  walk  out,  I  found  it  difficult  to  credit 
him  with  wickedness.  He  jollied  me,  and  1  returned 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  255 

the  challenge.  He  told  funny  stories,  acting  them  in 
part,  till  laughter  rocked  me  in  the  saddle.  He 
wreathed  himself  in  smiles,  and  at  the  sign  I  recollected 
how  he  played  with  me  for  his  amusement,  and  all  the 
shine  went  off. 

Black  thunder  wasn't  in  it  with  my  nastiness.  Clar- 
issa spiced  up  pretty  well  those  days.  I'd  bite  the  hand 
that  fed  me  just  as  soon  as  not;  and  since  my  keeper 
knew  it,  he  let  me  be,  and  fell  back  several  paces.  So 
we  mounted  slowly. 

Silence  is  golden,  says  the  seer.  Von  Rathgartz 
knew  the  ring  of  gold  in  every  language.  He  kept  on 
coming  sixteen  paces  back,  and  gave  the  tang  of  lone- 
liness a  chance  to  get  its  work  in.  The  road  laps  it- 
self up  and  up,  back  and  fore  across  the  front  of  the 
hills  like  the  tail  of  Henri's  snake.  By  the  time  we 
reached  the  fork  where  one  branch  led  to  the  club,  my 
temper  had  toned  down.  I  was  ticklish,  but  bearable. 
I  hailed  him : 

"  Let's  go  to  that  small  spot  of  mountain  top  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  view,  and  play  the  honorable 
game." 

"  Golf?  I  thought  you  wanted  something  infinitely 
wilder,  more  difficult,  picturesque,  free !  " 

"  Sea-scape  and  sky  make  keeping  one's  eye  on  the 
ball  a  million  times  difficult.  Fact  is  I  never  succeed." 

"  Then  we  won't  play,"  he  answered  with  happy 
assurance.  "  I  desire  above  all  else  that  Madame  shall 
enjoy  herself.  What  is  a  game?  I  forego  it  with 
pleasure."  And  he  commenced  to  ride  away  up  the 
less  frequented  road  leading  over  the  pass. 

I  was  mad.  Somehow  or  other,  just  on  the  brink  of 
adventure,  I  didn't  feel  like  hills.  Of  course  it  wasn't 


256  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

his  fault.  I  had  brought  the  expedition  on  my  own 
head.  He  was  only  doing  the  gentlemanly  act  in  es- 
corting a  lady  whither  she  wanted  to  go.  But  he 
needn't  be  so  keen  about  making  me  live  up  to  the  let- 
ter of  my  idea.  Duffy's  philosophy  jingled  in  my 
brain :  Those  that  ought  to  be  saved  will  be  saved  — 
in  spite  of  themselves.  Well,  I  didn't  like  "  in  spite 
of."  I  was  tempted  to  turn  my  Nanny  head  to  tail 
and  amble  home  alone.  Second  thoughts  delayed  me. 
During  the  past  few  days  I  had  learned  many  points 
in  my  opponent's  character.  One  was  that  he  never 
argued.  He  sacrificed,  gallantly,  gratuitously,  on  your 
altar  the.  thing  you  suggested  doing,  and  went  ahead 
and  carried  out  his  own  plans.  By  this  simple  means 
he  avoided  the  appearance  of  selfishness.  But  he  was 
selfish,  clear  through  from  the  hide  to  the  backbone! 
And  he  could  make  himself  more  offensive  in  fewer 
words  than  any  human  being  I  have  ever  fallen  foul  of. 
Now  how  would  my  dear  old  beau  comport  himself,  if 
peeved?  I  pondered  a  full  minute  and  then  decided  to 
hike  along.  It  seemed  best  to  stick  the  trial  out  and 
jog  trot  with  him  till  I  got  a  clue.  Then  me  for  action. 
Gee!  What  a  place  that  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  first  little  pass !  And  wouldn't  it  have  been  the  set 
for  Duffy's  confidence  ?  Little  Clarissa  is  no  bum  plan- 
ner —  only  her  plans  don't  always  come  off  as  planned. 
The  country  rolled  around  us  wild  and  lonely  as  the  sea 
—  and  so  much  of  it.  I  had  not  dreamed  such  miles 
and  miles  of  mountains  divided  Monte  Carlo  from  the 
provinces.  They  swelled  and  billowed  northward, 
monstrous,  deserted,  giving  neither  sign  nor  sound  of 
life.  I  shivered,  eyeing  the  Baron  askance,  for  once  we 
had  gone  beyond  the  sentinel  mounds  and  laid  a  fold 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  257 

of  the  road  behind  us,  I  would  be  as  completely  shut 
away  from  human  aid,  as  if  buried  in  dungeon  depths. 
The  path  soon  merged  in  grassy  wilderness.  Tilted 
grassy  slopes  surrounded  us.  An  uncouth  Gypsy 
Italian-looking  fellow  passed,  and  was  lost  beyond  a 
hill. 

"If  that's  the  kind  who  travel  here,  then  let's  go 
back  !  "  I  cried.  "  I've  read  of  brigands  —  and  I  think 
I  like  them  best  in  books." 

"  Bah !  Madame  need  not  fear  with  me.  I  carry  a 
revolver  always  —  but  for  such  —  why  waste  a  shot  ?  " 

Von  Rathgartz  stretched  out  his  long  right  arm  and 
it  came  up  like  a  jointed  iron  rod.  A  show  of  strength 
which  had  the  reverse  effect  from  its  advertised  pur- 
pose. Madame  immediately  began  to  shake  in  her 
stirrups. 

I  was  determined  not  to  get  farther  away  from  the 
golf  club  road  than  need  be,  and  set  myself,  without 
open  contradiction,  to  combat  the  old  beau's  purpose. 
So  I  called  a  halt  and  dismounted,  complaining  of 
cramp. 

My  escort  handed  me  down  without  demur,  and  I 
stood  and  raved  about  the  mountains,  while  that  subtle 
smile  played  under  his  moustache.  Three  minutes' 
spouting  emptied  the  vats  of  my  first  enthusiasm.  I 
had  used  up  every  polite  adjective  in  the  vocabulary  — 
charming,  exquisite,  enchanting,  attractive,  delightful. 
While  all  the  time  my  nerves  tingled  to  yell  the  one 
supreme  qualification  of  the  scene  —  LONELY! 

Just  because  I  felt  isolation,  breathed  it  —  and, 
above  all  else,  feared  it,  diplomacy  kept  me  babbling 
nothings  about  the  heavenly  view.  I  was  booked  to  fill 
time  by  sheer  lung  power,  like  blowing  up  an  air  cush- 


258  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ion.  I  barked  trivialities.  I  swept  the  horizon  with 
eyes  fierce  for  suggestion.  I  dropped  my  glance.  I 
saw  growing  things  —  little  things  —  blades  of  grass, 
and  cried  eagerly: 

"Are  there  any  flowers  here  —  mountain  flowers? 
I've  never  picked  a  posy  on  a  pinnacle.  What  is  it 
again  you  call  the  poets'  joy  —  guaranteed  to  act  like 
absinthe  ?  " 

As  I  talked,  I  walked  slowly  around  searching  in  the 
coarse  grass. 

The  Baron  laughed.  "  Ah,  you  will  look  a  long 
time  here  and  not  find  edelweiss  —  it  is  of  the  Alps. 
But  we  poets  do  not  miss  the  stars  when  our  sun  is 
shining." 

Ignoring  his  compliment,  I  continued  to  move  in 
circles  ever  backward  toward  the  open  road.  We 
made  a  swell  show  there  among  the  panoramic  hills. 
I,  the  complete  product  of  Annette's  skill,  turned  out  as 
I  had  lunched,  and  not  for  donkey  riding;  holding  hard 
on  Nanny's  bridle,  and  stepping  lively;  and  my  com- 
panion pacing  back  of  me,  determined  to  come  even, 
but  sadly  handicapped  by  a  self-willed  ass.  His  mount 
wanted  to  quit  our  circus  procession  and  study  the  flora 
for  himself.  Von  Rathgartz  was  obliged  to  stop  and 
reason  with  him,  and  every  time  they  lingered,  I  scur- 
ried on.  Finally,  they  caught  me  up.  He  was  close 
beside  me,  and  spoke  softly. 

"  La  Baronne  has  flowers  at  her  belt  more  beautiful 
than  any  ever  growing  in  the  mountains.  These  lilies 
of  the  valley  —  Ah!  "  The  tall  old  man  bent  to  smell 
my  bouquet,  letting  one  hand  fall  upon  my  arm. 

The  cheek  of  it !     I  drew  away  quickly. 

"  You  are  unkind,  Madame,  such  a  small  liberty." 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  259 

His  omission  of  apology  acted  on  my  mood  like  a 
match  on  a  cannon  cracker. 

"  I  don't  like  snakes !  "  I  cried  rashly. 

Von  Rathgartz's  expression  clouded,  his  lip  curled. 
"  You  will  more  probably  meet  wolves  here,"  he  said, 
with  a  sneer. 

I  regretted  my  rudeness,  and  followed  in  silence  as 
he  strode  along.  After  we  had  gone  a  little  distance, 
he  began  to  speak  with  a  fine  dignity. 

"  Madame,  I  have  sent  you  flowers  twice  a  day  since 
the  episode  of  our  introduction.  I  have  called  on  you 
as  often  as  propriety  allowed.  I  have  made  a  point  of 
being  always  where  you  were  likely  to  be  —  of  meet- 
ing you  with  your  friends.  They,  perhaps,  do  not  ex- 
actly understand  our  position.  They  do  not  know 
what  lies  behind.  It  is  immaterial  —  to  fool  them  was 
my  pleasantry.  But  you  have  known,  and  you  must 
have  understood  because  I  was  always  everywhere  at 
your  service.  In  America,  as  in  Europe,  such  a  course 
speaks  for  itself,  does  it  not?  " 

I  did  not  answer.  I  was  struck  all  of  a  heap  by  his 
reference  to  what  lay  behind.  Was  he  referring  only 
to  his  joke,  or  could  he  mean  the  Baroness  and  Jacobs? 

"  These  circumstances  indicate  much  in  your  society, 
n'est  ce  pas?  " 
11  It  means  you  like  me  — " 
"  Only  so  much  ?  " 

He  waited  for  an  appreciable  length  of  time,  walk- 
ing with  his  chin  sunk  on  his  breast,  and  eyes  downcast. 
I  believe  the  old  Don  Juan  cared  to  win  me  on  his 
merits.  My  stolid  silence  piqued  him.  He  shrugged, 
muttered  "  Helas !  "  and  stopping,  so  that  we  stood  face 
to  face  surrounded  by  our  asses,  said  coldly: 


260  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  I  am  a  widower,  Mademoiselle.  There  is  no  rea- 
son why  we  should  not  marry." 

The  tone,  more  than  his  words,  confirmed  my  worst 
fears,  though  it  needed  nothing  further  than  the 
changed  style  of  address  to  show  he  was  up  to  mis- 
chief. Unless  he  wished  me  to  realize  that  Jacobs's 
confederate  had  been  his  wife  —  why  put  it  that  way? 
My  blood  ran  cold  and  hot  by  turns,  my  tongue  stuck  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth.  Never  had  any  spot  on  earth 
seemed  so  vast  —  so  LONELY  ! 

"  There  is  no  reason,"  he  repeated,  softly  now. 

"  Except  that  I  can't  stand  you."  The  very  crude- 
ness  of  my  answer  heightened  my  anger.  I  was  a  bar- 
barian. I  did  not  know  how  to  be  positive  without 
being  vulgar.  And  this  adroit  personality  matching 
me  would  steal  advantage  from  every  break.  He 
smiled  already  with  perfect  good  form,  overlooking 
my  incivility  as  one  forgives  a  naughty  or  excited  child. 
He  commenced  to  remonstrate  with  me  gently. 

"  Society,  in  my  country,  does  not  consider  that  a 
reason.  You  do  not  care  for  me  to-day,  but  in  six 
months  hence  —  eh?  The  lover  is  despairing  for  his 
lady  now,  sincerely  grieved  for  her,  and  yet  he  will  en- 
joy, three,  four,  six  others  before  the  leaves  fall.  Per- 
sonal feeling  plays  too  great  a  variation  to  make  like 
and  dislike  reputable  authority.  Here  we  arrange 
these  matters  for  the  mind  as  well  as  for  the  heart. 
Ah,  but  doubtless  you  are  expecting  a  lyrical  motif! 
I  know  it  is  so  managed  in  America.  Je  t' adore! 
There  will  be  a  place  for  that  later." 

I  had  no  choice  but  to  remain  silent,  checking  my 
wrath,  thanking  the  powers  that  I  was  spared  senti- 
mentality. His  next  move  took  me  by  surprise. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  261 

"  Shall  I  announce  our  engagement,  then?  This  will 
amuse  our  friends.  You  could  not  hate  me,  quite, 
since  you  had  not  even  changed  your  name.  It  has 
been  remarked." 

The  reference  to  their  impudent  bets,  the  neat  re- 
minder of  my  questionable  position,  and  his  own  hold 
over  me  tipped  the  lid  off. 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind! "  I  cried,  beside 
myself  with  anger. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  I  won't  marry  you.  I  wouldn't  marry 
you,  if  you  were  the  last  man  on  earth!  I  hate,  loathe 
and  despise  you!  I  don't  appreciate  your  sense  of 
humor,  nor  fancy  your  pleasantries.  This  week  hasn't 
been  any  fun  for  me.  You  held  me  here  in  a  horrible 
predicament  and  pestered  me  with  your  attentions. 
Masquerading  as  your  divorced  wife  was  bad  enough 
—  but  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  be  a  perfect  fool  and 
marry  you  really  —  you've  got  another  guess  coming." 

I  stopped  for  breath,  and  we  remained  measuring 
each  other  eye  to  eye.  I  felt  he  was  strong  and  deter- 
mined. What  did  he  know  of  me  except  my  own 
story?  I  must  force  his  hand.  If  he  belonged  to 
Jacobs,  he  must  speak  of  Jacobs. 

"  My  husband  — "  I  began,  for  the  trouble  with  a 
stupid  lie  is  that  you  have  to  stick  to  it. 

"  Mademoiselle,  you  are  not  married."  Two  pin 
points  of  blue  steel  glittered  in  his  hard  face.  "  Even 
if  I  had  masticated  such  a  foolish  tale,  marriage  under 
an  assumed  name  is  not  legal.  I  repeat  —  there  is  no 
obstacle." 

So  he  had  never  accepted  Henri's  bluff!  But  how 
did  he  know  I  was  single  —  unless  he  knew  all  ?  At 


262  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

that  minute  he  wore  the  grim  look  of  one  who  takes 
his  foe  alive  or  dead ;  and  suddenly  I  understood.  He 
was  playing  for  himself  and  his  own  fortune  first.  If 
I  married  him,  nothing  more  would  be  said.  Fear  of 
the  past  overwhelmed  me,  along  with  fear  of  the  man. 
Uncertainty  drove  me  crazy.  I  stamped  my  foot. 

11  Why  do  you  bring  me  here  to  hector  me  ?  What 
do  you  want ?  If  you  want  money,  I  can  pay  — " 

He  leaned  against  his  donkey,  smiling  again,  and,  as 
his  grin  broadened,  I  saw  my  mistake. 

"  Why  should  you  pay  me?  "  the  Baron  asked,  coldly 
insolent.  "  And  why  should  I  accept  part,  when  I  can 
have  the  disposal  of  the  whole  fortune?  When  a  beau- 
tiful lady  is  ready  to  give  money,  she  can  be  persuaded 
to  give  much  beside  money  —  I  want  everything." 

I  drew  myself  to  my  full  height,  my  eyes  flashed;  I 
felt  tall  and  bold  as  a  hawk.  I  hated  him. 

"  Want  then!  Want!  "  I  cried.  "  You  won't  get 
one  red  cent !  " 

The  beast  had  the  cheek  to  admire  me.  "  Ach,  so 
you  are  magnificent!  That  is  the  way  I  like  you  best! 
It  will  be  necessary -to  tease  you  sometimes.  La  figure! 
It  is  superb!  " 

That  touch  of  patronage  roused  the  American  eagle. 
She  flew  at  him.  "  Damn  you !  Damn  your  hideous 
tricks!  I  won't  give  you  anything.  Marry  you!  I 
wouldn't  touch  you  with  a  ten-foot  pole !  " 

I  lashed  desire,  and  spurned  his  admiration  all  in 
one.  The  man's  face  changed.  His  watery  eyes 
turned  red-rimmed,  beads  of  perspiration  stood  upon 
his  forehead.  He  was  inordinately  vain,  and  I  had 
flicked  him  on  the  raw.  Perhaps  he  really  fancied  a 
girl  like  me  could  love  him. 


"I  wouldn't  marry  you  if  you  were  the  last  man  on  earth" 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  263 

"  You  won't  pay  me  a  red  cent,  hein !  You  refuse 
to  give  me  anything!  You  will  give  me  a  kiss,  now, 
my  beauty !  " 

He  swept  over  me.  Long  arms  circled  around,  en- 
closed me,  pressed  me  tight  against  his  hard,  flat  body. 
He  bent  me  backward.  He  covered  my  face  with  that 
hateful  moustache.  I  had  never  been  kissed  before. 
Never!  I  thought  only  of  his  yellow  teeth. 

During  the  next  fifty  seconds  —  hours  —  years,  my 
wits  bust  a  record,  while  I  stood  quiet  and  suffered  his 
shameful  embrace,  alone  with  him  there,  far  from  as- 
sistance. What  a  fool  I  had  been  to  rouse  the  sleeping 
wolf !  I  could  easily  have  promised  —  easily  have 
broken  the  promise.  To  struggle  against  him  now 
would  only  make  matters  worse.  I  must  wait,  I  had  to 
endure,  I  counted  madly:  one,  two,  three,  four,  five, 
six,  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten;  one,  two,  three,  four,  five, 
six,  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten  —  while  his  hideous  kisses 
rained  on  my  face.  I  wasn't  so  much  scared  as  dis- 
gusted. He  had  offered  marriage,  he  wanted  above  all 
things  to  marry  me,  and,  however  upset  for  the  mo- 
ment, he  was  too  calculative  to  endanger  a  possible  for- 
tune. At  the  worst  I  must  accept  him.  And  once  de- 
livered out  of  this,  shake  the  dust  of  Monte  Carlo  from 
my  feet  forever.  Let  him  follow  —  let  him  do  his 
worst  —  anything  was  better  than  being  embraced. 
Bah !  I  would  rather  be  hung  for  murder  than  marry 
the  beast !  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six  — 

"  Whe-he-e-e-y-yo-yo-o-ho-ho-hoh !  " 

Violetta  lifted  up  her  voice  and  brayed. 

We  shot  apart  like  an  explosion,  while  east  and  west 
the  glorious  noise  resounded.  My  Nanny  joined  its 
echoes;  and  von  Rathgartz  turned  upon  the  twain  to 


264  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

slay  them.     Then  realizing  love  was  free  he  grabbed 
for  her  —  and  caught  a  donkey's  tail. 

Clarissa  left  him  suddenly  amid  the  music;  nor  did 
her  scooting  shadow  waver  until  La  Turbie  and  the 
waiting  automobile  came  in  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Thanks  to  the  donkeys  I  had  not  been  forced  to  go 
through  the  humiliating  pretense  of  accepting  von 
Rathgartz.  But  he  had  kissed  me,  had  held  me  in  his 
arms,  had  taken  a  lover's  privilege  —  and  how  was  I 
to  put  the  mum  plaster  on  his  tongue?  To-morrow  he 
would  do  one  of  two  things  —  report  me  to  Jacobs,  or 
announce  our  engagement  to  the  Mainardys,  and  make 
a  story  of  his  conquest  in  the  smoking  room.  He  could 
be  trusted  to  do  the  latter  anyway.  One  had  only  to 
picture  him,  deserted,  descending  alone,  flanked  by  the 
two  animals,  to  know  how  bitterness  must  animate  his 
memory. 

Laughter  took  some  of  the  disgust  out  of  me,  though 
I  realized  my  plight.  And  when  I  had  washed  his 
kisses  off,  I  donned  a  negligee,  made  fatigue  an  excuse 
for  getting  out  of  a  dinner  date ;  and  settled  my  mind 
to  some  long,  deliberate  cogitation. 

This  was  to  be  no  wild  riot  of  pangs  and  fears  such 
as  I  had  experienced  earlier.  Our  wits  were  clear. 
The  woman  stuff  of  the  afternoon  had  not  affected 
Henri  as  it  upset  me,  and  it  was  de  Grasse  to  the  helm. 

Blunder  by  blunder  we  reviewed  the  situation  and 
its  causes.  First,  there  was  the  charge  of  murder 
hanging  fire  from  that  beach  affair,  negligible  in  itself, 
the  inquest  having  laid  both  deaths  to  Felix's  hand. 
Of  course,  if  I  should  be  hauled  up  on  other  accounts, 
it  was  still  in  line  to  form  an  unpleasant  addition,  but 

265 


266  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

old  Stutz  loomed  more  terrible  on  my  horizon.  Terry 
had  been  right  about  the  little  flivver  that  went  flop  into 
the  water  —  Stutz  was  struggling  back  to  health  in  a 
prison  hospital  cot,  and  there  was  where  my  fortunes 
struck  a  bunker.  He  honestly  believed  he  had  been 
robbed  before  the  hand  of  justice  fell  upon  him.  How- 
ever, he  had  come  by  that  black  case,  he  had  certainly 
handed  it  over  to  me  in  good  faith.  He  would  swear 
through  thick  and  thin  that  Clarissa  took  his  diamonds, 
and  being  one  of  Jacobs' s  dupes,  Jacobs  would  nat- 
urally be  the  last  to  disabuse  him  on  that  score. 
Should  he  turn  King's  evidence,  like  the  boatman,  the 
thing  looked  black. 

Jacobs  himself  was  the  immediate  menace.  Griggs 
and  I  knew  he  had  planned  to  send  a  bona  fide  messen- 
ger to  the  beach  —  a  girl  who  would  find  no  automo- 
bile and  no  boat.  She  must  have  been  sadly  at  a  loss, 
poor  innocent,  if  she  ever  got  that  far.  I  wondered 
\vhat  she  had  done.  Whatever  her  course  she  had  lost 
time,  luckily  for  us,  and  Jacobs  had  lost  more  com- 
municating with  Felix  —  or  Felix  with  Jacobs.  Jacobs 
wouldn't  have  hurried,  knowing  that  load  of  diamonds 
was  fake,  he'd  just  as  soon  have  had  them  disappear, 
and  Felix  must  have  been  fine  and  drunk  by  then. 
Eventually,  they  must  have  worked  round  to  the  pawn- 
shop man  —  and  that's  where  I  got  off.  He  would  be 
able  to  spot  me  again  among  a  million. 

There  remained  the  Baroness  mixup.  If  she  had 
been  working  for  Jacobs,  she  had  failed  to  carry  out 
his  business.  He  must  get  wise.  It  was  dead  easy  to 
trace  me  —  what  an  ostrich  I  had  been  to  hide  myself 
with  a  blare  of  trumpets!  That  Yiddish  letter  com- 
menced to  haunt  me.  Jacobs  possessed  power  and 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  267 

money.  It  looked  as  though  he  had  already  set  his 
spies  at  work ;  and  his  ability  to  do  me  dirt  was  limit- 
less. 

On  top  of  all  these  fears  the  Baron's  pretensions  to 
my  hand  raised  an  immediate  issue.  I  could  not  re- 
main in  Monte  Carlo.  At  any  moment  he  might  turn 
and  rend  me  —  blow  my  reputation  to  a  bomb  pit.  I 
must  give  the  man  the  slip ;  skidaddle  with  a  big  SK ; 
go  while  the  going  was  good,  and  go  alone.  Well  I 
knew  he  had  bribed  Annette,  and  that  she  would  cheer- 
fully fly  with  me,  and  telegraph  our  whereabouts. 
Henri  was  always  good  at  a  start.  A  dozen  schemes, 
melodramatic,  humorous,  impossible,  whirled  through 
my  head,  but  none  of  them  wound  up  just  right ;  none 
of  them  carried  me  beyond  Monaco  —  let  alone  my 
trunks.  "  Trunks !  You  rave !  This  time  it's  to  be 
no  spotlight  exit,"  Henri  warned  me. 

Seeing  I  couldn't  take  everything,  I  decided  to  take 
nothing;  to  feign  an  illness,  shake  my  friends  and 
board  the  Ventimiglia  train  at  lunch  time,  when  Monte 
Carlo  would  have  settled  to  the  serious  business  of  its 
day. 

Woman's  everlasting  gag,  the  headache,  served  to 
lay  me  out  of  promenade  and  luncheon  party.  I  sent 
Annette  around  with  a  cool  note  of  explanation,  writ- 
ten so  as  to  curb  Sue's  sympathy  short  of  a  call,  and 
added  a  shopping  list  bound  to  take  her  two  hours, 
with  Paul  driving  the  car.  I  did  have  a  touch  of  head, 
and  I  wore  a  fit  of  the  blues  that  for  pure  color  rivalled 
an  artist's  palette. 

The  girl  tucked  me  up,  supplied  me  with  salts  and  a 
copy  of  the  Paris  Herald,  and,  after  repeated  offers  of 
service,  trotted  down  the  hall  happy  as  a  cricket  over 


268  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

her  outing.  When  she  was  gone,  I  sprang  erect  and 
fired  my  paper  clear  across  the  room.  It  was  madden- 
ing to  think  Annette  would  never  minister  to  me  again. 
I  had  been  a  fool  not  to  quit  when  the  Baron  put  in  an 
appearance.  I  had  lost  every  trick  without  so  much  as 
hearing  him  mention  Schlossgartz.  In  fact,  he  had  so 
persistently  avoided  details  I  began  to  wonder  if  he 
really  was  a  title.  I  lost  myself  in  morbid  fancy. 
The  winged  snake  came  and  set  upon  my  eyeballs.  It 
had  pestered  me  outrageously  since  these  strangers 
crossed  my  path,  the  little  rubber  growing  daily  in  im- 
portance. Did  that  indicate  to  sell?  The  Baron  had 
seriously  advised  me  to  sell  more  than  once,  and  the 
market  had  gone  off  a  few  points  during  the  week. 
Now  it  was  booming  again.  Were  he  and  Duffy  stock 
manipulators  and  laying  for  me  there,  too?  I  pon- 
dered Duffy  —  the  habits  of  the  beast  at  home  —  and 
guessed  he  was  a  good  deal  less  of  a  spender  in  Amer- 
ica. 

Thinking  about  my  money  perked  me  up.  Why 
should  a  woman  with  millions  —  five,  eight,  ten  —  my 
fortune  varied  day  by  day  —  lie  down  under  anybody's 
thumb? 

"  Me  for  my  own  name  and  my  own  country !  "  I 
cried,  jumping  out  of  bed. 

"  I  reckon  I  can  put  up  a  pretty  spunky  fight  against 
prosecution  in  New  York  City.  And  as  for  folks  here 
—  I  lived  a  long  time  without  the  Mainardys,  and 
there's  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  was  caught !  " 

Compared  to  our  arrival,  my  preparations  for  leav- 
ing were  a  fair  joke.  If  I  escaped  with  my  dressing 
case,  I  would  do  well.  It  was  a  very  magnificent  affair 
wonderfully  fitted,  dozens  of  bottles  and  brushes  made 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  269 

it  heavy  as  lead  —  but  not  too  heavy  for  Clarissa  in 
an  emergency.  Remember  I  was  no  fine  lady  pam- 
pered from  the  cradle  up.  As  I  hefted  the  case  in  one 
hand,  I  thought  of  the  boxes  of  lingerie  which  I  had 
been  expected  to  swing  from  the  high  shelves  at  Bain 
&  Dingley's  down  to  the  counter  and  up  again.  The 
scene  of  my  early  victories  trumpeted  a  bugle  note. 
Running  away  with  one's  pockets  full  of  honest  money 
is  a  cinch !  Doubts  scurried  in  all  directions  before  a 
great  heart-sized  laugh. 

My  hands  fairly  twinkled  as  I  stowed  in  jewels  and 
private  papers.  There  was  plenty  of  time,  but  An- 
nette might  return,  and  must  not  find  me  packing. 
Suddenly  I  went  up  in  the  air.  A  time  table!  My 
kingdom  for  a  time  table!  When  did  the  Venti- 
miglia  train  go  through?  Rummage,  rummage  — 
but  nothing  doing!  The  property  man  had  tricked 
me.  I  daren't  arrive  at  the  station  early  and  await 
results;  I  was  too  conspicuous.  And  I  daren't  face 
those  sunlight  streets  before  the  hour  when  man  would 
be  intent  upon  his  midday  meal.  I  was  too  popular. 
I  would  be  seen,  recognized,  accosted,  roped  in  for 
something. 

I  fumed,  I  rummaged,  but  I  dare  not  ring.  None 
knew  better  than  the  Baron  how  to  fathom  a  bell- 
boy's knowledge  by  the  weight  of  a  small  coin  dang- 
ling on  a  string  of  questions.  To  have  a  sheet  sent 
up  was  to  advertise  whither  I  journeyed.  I  must  just 
go  down  myself,  loiter  through  the  hall,  perhaps  buy 
a  copy  of  the  papers  I  already  had,  and  snoop  a 
folder.  The  earlier  the  safer  for  this  little  curtain 
raiser  —  but  first  to  dress. 

Gown  after  gown  I  took  from  its  place,  tried  and 


270  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

discarded,  finally  picking  on  a  neutral  toned  suit  more 
in  the  style  of  Mrs.  Brown  than  any  giddy  aristocrat. 
Plain  accessories  added  themselves  without  effort,  but 
deciding  on  a  hat  ate  up  my  courage.  To  choose  one 
—  only  one,  and  forsake  the  others.  My  eyes  watered. 
I  tried  on  all  the  favorites  —  the  ruby  straw,  the  oys- 
ter gray  with  its  soft  plumes  exactly  matching,  a 
black  lace  and  jet  —  real  lace  and  real  jet,  several 
suedes  —  perfect  dolls  —  tan  and  pink  and  green ;  and 
last,  the  fairy  blue  —  the  blue  with  the  soft  tulle  un- 
derrims  and  the  misty  white  lace  veil.  I  tried  this  one 
on  over  and  over.  How  tragic  that  it  would  never 
again  crown  my  titled  head.  Could  I  bring  myself  to 
carry  a  bandbox?  No,  I  could  not.  My  training  as 
a  perfect  lady,  though  brief,  had  been  too  thorough. 
So  I  kissed  its  dainty  edge  as  I  laid  it  away  in  snowy 
tissue  paper.  I  hoped  Annette  would  take  it. 

Jimminy  Crickets!  The  idea  of  what  was  about 
to  become  of  all  my  things  opened  vistas.  They'd 
think  I  took  French  leave  lacking  spondulics.  I'd 
talked  about  rubber,  but  never  shown  my  certificates, 
and  I'd  been  losing  heavily  in  the  Casino.  The  Baron- 
ess was  busted!  Rather  than  face  it,  I'd  left  the  pro- 
prietor to  pay  himself  out  of  my  effects.  If  gossip 
didn't  put  a  spoke  in  von  Rathgartz's  wheel,  I  missed 
my  guess.  In  twenty-four  hours  he'd  be  drinking 
himself  to  death  over  his  lucky  escape. 

Surveying  myself  critically  in  the  mirror,  dressed 
by  my  own  hands  for  the  first  time  in  months,  I  real- 
ized the  Baroness  von  Rathgartz,  that  final  letter  in 
the  art  of  womanhood,  was  indeed  dead. 

"  Absolutely  safe,"  I  murmured,  heart  and  body 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  271 

sinking  together  in  the  elevator.  "  Nobody  will  rec- 
ognize me  this  way." 

Alas!  I  had  hardly  returned  to  find  Annette  open- 
jawed  regarding  the  litter  of  my  toilet  than  I  heard 
the  unmistakable  bony-fingered  rap-a-tap-tap  of  the 
Baron's  arrival.  He  had  recognized  me!  I  almost 
loved  the  creature  out  of  sheer  gratitude!  But  how 
to  escape  him  —  what  to  do?  My  paragon  maid 
would  let  him  in,  if  he  so  much  as  offered  her  a  louis. 

One  of  Henri's  inspirations  saved  the  day.  An- 
nette being  a  sort  of  female  edition  of  de  Grasse  he 
understood  her  wiles. 

"  I  have  been  looking  over  some  gowns,"  I  said, 
airily  waving  away  thousands  of  francs'  worth  in  cre- 
ations by  Paquin,  Cheruit,  Beer.  "  The  sapphire  and 
the  taupe  and  these  trifles  on  the  ottoman  are  for  my 
right  hand.  You  will  look  nice  in  the  hat.  I  feel 
better,  and  am  going  out ;  maybe  I  won't  be  in  to  din- 
ner—  you  can  have  the  afternoon  off.  Whoever  that 
is,  say  Madame  is  not  at  home." 

The  knocks  grew  urgent. 

"  Annette,"  I  added,  looking  her  straight  in  the  eyes. 
"If  that  is  the  Baron  von  Rathgartz,  hold  him  a  little 
in  conversation.  I  do  not  wish  to  meet  him  going  out. 
Here.  Let  me  see  you." 

It  was  farewell.  Placing  the  cherry  hat  on  her 
dark  hair,  I  tilted  her  chin.  I  gazed  at  her.  I  kissed 
her.  We  were  both  embarrassed. 

But  my  munificent  gift  had  satisfied  her  avarice. 
"Madame  is  kind  —  they  are  so  beautiful!"  she 
gasped,  white  teeth  gleaming,  and  hastened  away  to  do 
my  bidding  on  an  expert  specimen  of  the  flirtatious 


272  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

male.  Common  jealousy  knows  no  pang  like  Henri's. 
Think  of  the  eyes  she  would  make! 

I  heard  his  voice,  "  Mais,  Madame  has  just  come 
up.  I  saw  her  take  the  elevator  this  minute  — " 

My  maid's  reply  began  with  a  zip  and  ended  in  a  dove 
coo.  It  got  him. 

"  What  have  you  been  contriving  in  her  absence  ? 
Trying  on  the  dresses,  hein?  How  does  she  look,  the 
little  one  ?  " 

Ah!  He  would  soon  know.  The  door  closed.  It 
was  diamond  cut  diamond.  I  was  saved  at  the  price 
of  Annette  —  but  Henri  raged!  I  grabbed  my  bag 
from  where  it  stood  ready,  beat  it  down  the  stairs  and 
jumped  into  a  cab. 

Ever  so  little  later  we  were  steaming  out  of  Monte 
Carlo,  second  class  —  a  girl  and  a  valise  —  with  no 
concern  in  the  world  but  where  we  would  book  from 
Ventimiglia. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

Clarissa  Kendall  ambling  the  streets  of  Naples  felt 
small  and  unimportant,  but  astonishingly  happy.  I 
had  written  to  Griggs  at  once ;  my  real  need  being  ex- 
pert advice  on  European  morals,  and  counsel  as  to 
what  direction  things  were  likely  to  take.  And  he, 
good  scout,  cabled  back  to  sit  tight  till  he  arrived. 
Evidently  he  wasn't  wasting  sleep  over  the  Baron,  so 
fear  didn't  weigh  me  down  perceptibly  either.  The 
paving  stones  hadn't  scuffed  one  dainty  pair  of  shoes, 
before  I  guessed  that  Henri's  heart  was  pretty  much 
at  home  in  Italy.  Indeed,  his  persistence  in  explor- 
ing the  narrow  ways  and  mangy  houses  prevented  us 
from  being  on  the  dock  to  welcome  Howard. 

Big  busses  full  of  passengers  were  already  bowling 
from  the  wharf  as  my  carrozzella  whirled  along  the 
water  front.  With  the  driver  lashing  and  swearing, 
plying  his  tongue  as  vigorously  as  his  whip,  me  stand- 
ing to  urge  him  on,  and  frightened  pedestrians  turn- 
ing from  cover  to  swell  the  torrent  of  abuses  gathering 
in  our  wake,  we  made  a  cheering  bit  of  local  color. 
And  Griggs,  his  round  face  burnt  but  beaming,  jump- 
ing out  of  his  carriage  as  I  threw  myself  from  mine, 
added  the  last  un-English  note.  We  fell  upon  each 
other's  necks. 

"Clarissa,  old  thing!  Jove!  I  hardly  knew  you. 
I  think  —  that  is  —  you're  changed.  You  know  what 

273 


274  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  mean  —  I  believe  you're  prettier  than  ever !  "     He 
was  holding  my  two  hands,  apoplectically  red. 

I  squeezed  his.     "  You're  a  sight  for  sore  eyes !  " 
"  Hot  stuff,  this  meeting  here,  eh  —  what?  " 
We  proceeded  to  a  high  balcony  overlooking  the 
kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and  lunched  with  a  tarantella  in 
our  ears  and  questions  flying.     But  first  I  took  the 
menu  from  him. 

"  Not  on  your  life,  old  boy.  I've  eaten  nothing  but 
pension  food  for  full  three  weeks,  twenty-one  mortal 
days,  sixty-three  nearly  fatal  meals.  This  is  my  treat 
—  you  can  pay  for  it,  if  you  like !  " 

When  he  had  pronounced  my  selection  an  extremely 
sound  effort,  we  unbosomed  ourselves  freely.  My 
tale  was  the  best,  or  seemed  so  then,  because  its  pat- 
tern was  all  worked  through  in  detail  and  didn't  need 
any  aniline  dyes  of  imagination  to  make  it  vivid. 
But  I  could  see  Griggs  was  dying  to  talk. 

In  New  York  they  were  tearing  up  certain  streets 
and  paving  others  —  the  subway  was  still  under  con- 
struction. That's  about  all  the  home  news  I  got  out 
of  him,  his  mind  being  largely  projected  into  the  com- 
ing weeks.  He  was  full  of  a  big  spiritualistic  pow- 
wow due  to  take  place  —  a  regular  time !  Big-wigs 
planned  to  hurl  themselves  from  London  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  experimenting  through  a  strange  and  pow- 
erful medium;  a  riot  of  Science  had  been  organized 
to  make  wise  this  gay,  shallow,  colorful,  aching,  pov- 
erty-stricken, crime-bespotted,  glorious  city  of  Naples. 
Well,  Henri  and  I  can  milk  as  much  interest  out  of  a 
joust  with  the  other  world  as  anybody.  But  I  was 
disappointed.  I'd  expected  to  be  breezed  about  by 
Howard,  and  enjoy  life,  and  here  he  was  figuring  to 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  275 

shut  himself  up  in  a  tomb.  All  those  famous  John- 
nies would  cut  me  out  of  his  company.  I  thought  it 
a  raw  deal  and  told  him  so,  gently.  Thereupon  he 
braced  his  courage  and  drew  himself  together  for  the 
plunge. 

"  Clarissa,  I  legged  it  over  as  soon  as  I  received 
your  message,  but  I  was  booked  for  Europe  anyway. 
Nothing  —  not  even  Angelica  —  could  keep  me  out  of 
Italy  just  at  present.  It  was  my  great  ambition  to 
persuade  you  to  come  on  here  from  Monte  Carlo  — 
if  you  know  what  I  mean  —  I  wanted  most  awfully 
to  have  you  and  de  Grasse  on  the  spot.  Sir  Herbert 
Slawson  and  Sir  Gillespie  Drake,  personal  friends  of 
my  governor,  aren't  like  —  like  members  of  the  vulgar 
crowd,  don't  you  know.  Wouldn't  you  —  ah, —  I 
mean  —  will  you  consent  to  meet  them?" 

"Meet  them!  Sure.  If  they  stay  here  and  they're 
friends  of  yours,  I  guess  I'd  have  to  do  some  dodging 
to  avoid  it." 

'  Yes,  certainly,  of  course.  But  I  mean  talk  to 
them  —  tell  them  —  take  them  into  confidence.  You'll 
like  Sir  Herbert.  He's  by  way  of  being  rather  a 
topper." 

"  Talk  to  them  —  about  de  Grasse  ?  Always  the 
same  old  song,  Griggsy !  " 

He  flushed,  opened  his  mouth,  shut  it  again  and 
sighed. 

"  Get  it  off  your  chest,"  I  said.     "  I'll  listen." 

He  spoke  earnestly.  His  utterance  was  positively 
thick  with  desire. 

"  You  know,  old  girl,  if  you'd  only  talk  it  over  with 
the  two  of  them  and  then  do  what  they  say  —  asleep 
—  or  something  —  tremendous  things  might  happen. 


276  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

When  I  think  of  what  might  happen  and  what  hasn't 
got  a  chance  to  happen  so  long  as  you  continue  selfishly 
to  keep  Henri  bottled  up  inside  you  —  well  —  I  mean 
—  as  long  as  you  refuse  to  give  him  a  free  hand  —  to 
allow  other  —  other  mediums  to  get  at  him.  I  feel 
it's  —  it's  — " 

"  Like  taking  candy  from  a  child  ?  Cheating  the 
future  generations,  eh  ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  rather  like  cheating  something  or  some- 
body? Don't  you  feel  you  kind  of  owe  a  turn  to  the 
world  —  to  people?  Life's  doing  pretty  well  by  you, 
and  even  if  you  refuse  to  admit  it,  you  and  de  Grasse 
are  of —  of  thundering  importance  to  Science.  Jove! 
Don't  laugh !  How  am  I  to  talk  about  the  bally  thing, 
if  I  can't  —  can't  mention  it?  " 

I  did  laugh,  but  he  brooded,  steeped  to  the  chin  in 
serious  purpose.  I  began  to  consider  the  suggestion. 
Tremendous  things.  H'm,  as  long  as  they  weren't 
too  upsetting  I  rather  thought  I'd  like  to  go  the  limit. 

"  Howard,"  I  said  at  last,  "  you're  much  nicer  when 
you  philander  than  when  you  philosophize  —  most 
men  are.  Philosophy's  a  bore.  Knowledge  is  a  bore. 
Science  is  a  bore  —  especially  in  Naples.  You're  a 
bore.  Worse  —  you're  the  slave  of  an  idea.  You 
make  me  mad.  But  I  could  never  stay  mad  with  you. 
You're  a  nice  thing  to  have  around  and,  because  I'm 
threatened  with  the  loss  of  your  society,  I  feel  real 
peeved.  You  fix  it  up  with  the  old  highbrows  to  let 
me  in  on  their  seances,  and  maybe  I'll  let  them  in  on 
Henri." 

"  Clarissa,  you're  a  splendid  fellow !  "  He  seized 
my  hand.  He  gloated. 

"  There's  another  matter.     I   was  touching  on  it 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  277 

when  I  spoke  about  life  doing  you  well  —  not  that  I 
want  to  —  to  take  liberties  with  your  private  affairs  — 
but  Swanhill  gave  me  a  message  for  you." 

"Yes?" 

"  He  told  me  rubber  looked  shaky.  He  thought  it 
was  high  time  to  get  out.  I  promised  to  mention  it 
to  you  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  H'm  —  he's  been  cabling  since.  Thanks,  Griggsy. 
This  matter  cuts  some  ice.  The  boom  can't  last  for- 
ever, and  I  guess  it  is  time  to  quit.  I've  got  a  lot  to 
unload,"  I  informed  him,  leaning  on  the  table,  with 
shining  eyes.  Henri  couldn't  be  restrained  from  brag- 
ging. "  We've  invested  every  red  in  rubber.  Hon- 
est! I  wired  New  York  to  sell  my  railroads  and  a 
few  industrials,  and  then  we  simply  tossed  the  dollars 
over.  In  those  days  the  price  was  stepping  lively  and 
always  in  the  right  direction.  Say,  we  used  to  sit 
in  an  office  in  London  and  watch  the  pile  roll  up. 
Take  it  from  your  uncle  Dudley  we've  made  a  pretty 
penny." 

Along  the  city  end  of  the  Villa  Nazionale,  fronting 
on  the  bay,  there  stands  a  pile  of  stone  and  mortar 
called  a  palace.  Walls  nearly  three  feet  thick  rear 
themselves  square  about  an  ample  court.  A  splendid 
stairway  leads  from  the  street  level  to  the  topmost 
skylight  without  scamping  an  inch  of  its  breadth. 
High  rooms  opening  off  both  sides  of  the  four  cor- 
ridors are  lit  by  narrow  windows,  and  stone,  stone, 
stone,  whichever  way  one  turns,  makes  the  place  as 
cold  as  charity.  It  sure  must  have  been  some  dog 
under  an  old  regime,  but  its  day  is  over.  Now  each 
story  rents  to  a  separate  tenant,  and  one,  at  that  time, 
was  placarded  largely  on  the  park  side:  Pension 


278  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Frascati.  In  a  back  room  of  this  pretentious  "  board- 
ing house,"  with  a  window  looking  on  the  court,  and 
only  one  door,  the  wise  men  chose  to  spread  their 
scientific  feast;  and  during  the  period  of  their  occupa- 
tion nobody  was  allowed  to  enter  it  except  themselves, 
the  medium,  a  reporter  and  Clarissa. 

Don't  let  disbelief  make  a  joke  of  you  by  suggesting 
that  electric  wires  were  introduced  through  three  feet 
of  solid  stone  floor;  or  that  any  person  contrived  to 
play,  on  such  a  stage,  tricks  clever  enough  to  dazzle 
those  clear  thinking,  gifted,  educated  minds.  Yet 
queer  things  happened  within  the  four  square  of  that 
compact  masonry.  They  were  all  written  down  in 
shorthand  minute  by  minute,  and  later  published  in 
a  bulky  book  —  that  he  who  reads  may  run.  But  it 
was  up  to  Griggs  to  keep  me  posted  during  the  per- 
formances, for  I  was  only  allowed  to  do  a  couple  of 
heats  in  the  spook  race,  as  they  feared  excitement 
might  upset  de  Grasse. 

Griggs  had  sorted  out  of  his  clippings  the  guarded 
little  paragraph  I'd  given  him  permission  to  write 
about  us;  and  which,  being  so  guarded,  had  appeared, 
said  its  piece,  and  faded  from  publicity  without  having 
raised  a  flutter  in  the  scientific  pulse.  He  showed 
this  to  Sir  Herbert,  who  passed  it  to  Sir  Gillespie,  and 
by-and-by  they  slipped  it  to  the  crowd.  Howard  kept 
on  barking  about  us,  as  if  we'd  been  a  patent  medicine. 
The  old  boys  pricked  up  their  ears,  and  one  or  two  of 
them  came  round  to  pass  the  time  of  day. 

You  see  I'd  made  good  on  the  Lelland  and  on  rubber, 
and  aside  from  diamonds,  mine  was  quite  a  fast  record 
for  a  perfectly  normal  young  lady  whose  finishing 
school  had  been  a  counter.  They  cranked  her  up  on 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  279 

questions,  but  in  such  a  polished  way  my  feelings 
weren't  damaged  any.  Wanted  to  know  who  and 
what  my  people  were.  How  far  I'd  been  educated, 
and  all  that. 

Sir  Gillespie  lost  his  breath  at  the  start,  and  the 
longer  I  talked,  the  harder  he  found  it  to  catch  up 
with  facts.  They  were  amazed,  nonplussed,  and 
couldn't  figure  it  that  a  well  dressed,  beautiful,  rich 
young  woman  had  come  unassisted  through  all  I'd 
planned  and  got  away  with. 

"  Mind  you,  gentlemen,"  I  finished.  "  This  is  every 
word  in  strictest  confidence.  Any  one  of  you  could 
land  me  in  the  dock." 

They  bowed  as  serious  as  the  woolsack  and  crossed 
their  hearts.  Then  a  scrawny  chap  began  to  hand  me 
problems  —  square  roots  of  XYZ,  and  the  like.  I 
multiplied  the  alphabet  by  the  alphabet  and  brought 
out  a  telephone  number.  He  thought  it  marvellous 
—  for  that  matter,  so  did  I.  He  tried  to  corner  me 
on  names  of  mountains;  and  how  to  go  from  place  to 
place  —  journeys  I'd  never  made  —  this-and-the-other- 
les  Bains.  Later,  I  had  to  play  bridge  with  three  of 
them,  and  as  they  were  roaring  good  players,  that  was 
the  best  end  of  the  business.  I  wanted  to  have  an- 
other rubber,  but  they  insisted  on  sitting  round  like 
a  council  of  owls,  and  continuing  to  fire  questions. 

"  You  say,  Miss  Kendall,  your  education  stopped 
abruptly  before  you  had  even  graduated  from  the  pub- 
lic school?  " 

"  Quite  impossible  for  an  untrained  mind  to  do  that 
problem  in  that  way,"  interpolated  the  mathematician. 

"  And  you  never  played  any  card  games  till  after 
the  mesmeric  sleep?  " 


280  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  You  bet  I  didn't !  Granny  was  dead  against  cards 
and  dancing  and  on  the  farm  anybody  who  cared  for 
himself  followed  Granny's  lead." 

"  Very  strange,"  mused  a  little  red-haired  man  wear- 
ing bone-rimmed  spectacles.  "  Indicates  a  vaster  field 
than  the  theory  of  subjective  self  could  ever  cover." 

"Most  astonishing  case  on  record!"  boomed  Sir 
Herbert. 

It's  classy  to  be  a  case  under  such  specialists.  They 
used  to  dine  all  round  my  table  just  to  get  a  chance  of 
watching  me,  till  I  began  to  feel  like  the  only  auto- 
mobile in  the  village.  If  I  sat  down  in  a  corner  for 
five  minutes,  one  of  them  would  materialize  and  try 
to  draw  me  out.  When  I  shifted,  another  turned  up. 
I  hopped  about  one  morning,  as  if  I'd  been  a  hen  on 
a  hot  griddle,  for  the  fun  of  seeing  how  many  I  could 
signal.  And,  by  gum,  I  got  the  whole  eleven  — 
Griggs,  of  course,  didn't  count.  Maybe  they  were  put 
on  by  him  to  do  the  guardianship  act,  but  their  mo- 
tives were  carefully  wrapped  in  conversation  and  sealed 
with  a  compliment  —  the  disinterested,  almost  imper- 
sonal flattery  which  elderly  men,  of  the  right  sort, 
spiel  to  a  girl  in  public. 

After  this  kind  of  thing  had  been  going  on  for  a 
week  Howard  broke  the  news.  The  old  boys  wanted 
to  get  up  a  real  cracker-jack  of  a  soul  search  —  per- 
haps a  series  —  with  me  featured  as  the  sleeping 
beauty  and  their  precious  medium  pulling  the  puppet 
strings  —  an  all  star  cast.  Henri  was  to  play  puppet. 
They  calculated,  as  he'd  been  a  dab  at  hypnotism,  she 
wouldn't  have  any  trouble  getting  into  touch  with 
him.  I  wasn't  awful  keen  on  it  myself,  because  that 
Italian  woman  had  been  doing  some  creepy  stunts, 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  281 

But  I  hated  to  show  the  white  feather,  and  Howard 
kept  on  pressing  me,  morning,  noon  and  night,  to  come 
across. 

"  Science  "  and  "  Opportunity  "  were  the  burden 
of  his  song,  until  my  temper  flew  out  and  I  snapped 
at  him. 

"  Science  runs  a  long  way  ahead  of  friendship  with 
you,  young  man!  You're  deaf  to  compunction  and 
blind  toward  misadventure.  Suppose  she  turns  us  into 
spooks?  What  if  I  go  off  in  blue  vapor?  You 
should  worry!  " 

Jokes  and  sarcasm  were  wasted.  His  second  name 
was  serious.  The  twelve  set  their  jaws  to  have  their 
own  way,  and  I,  like  a  simp  —  or  a  woman,  gave  in. 
I  said  I'd  stand  for  it,  and  in  the  saying  I  kissed  my 
liberty  good-by. 

Once  she  had  consented  to  be  the  party,  there  was 
nothing  left  for  little  Clarissa  but  to  sit  back  and 
contemplate  Slawson  and  Drake  making  arrangements 
to  give  it.  This  was  to  be  their  treat  extra  and  above 
the  meetings  listed  on  the  society's  curriculum,  and  the 
note  of  competition  promised  to  sharpen  interest  a 
whole  lot.  They  went  to  elaborate  pains  to  set  the 
scene  correctly.  Not  wishing  to  interrupt  the  regular 
business  at  Frascati,  they  hired  a  room  in  our  hotel 
and  laid  it  out  according,  to  rule,  black  cabinet  and  all. 
You  see,  if  you  don't  play  this  game  according  to 
Hoyle,  you  don't  score  any  honors,  no  matter  how 
startling  your  results.  It  seemed  they  wanted  to  con- 
trive a  bodily  manifestation  of  Henri,  and  then  ram  it 
down  people's  throats  as  a  fact. 

Henri  was  a  perfect  stranger  to  the  bunch,  and,  ex- 
cept that  Griggs  was  present,  it  would  have  been  dead 


282  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

easy  for  some  charlatan  ghost  to  step  in  and  play  his 
part.  Think  of  a  clever  little  Vesta  Tilley  from  the 
spiritland  skipping  over  our  border,  doing  a  turn  in 
the  spotlight,  and  handing  a  lemon  to  all  those  brainy 
toffs!  Of  course,  nothing  like  that  could  happen  with 
Howard  acting  as  a  safety  brake.  He  was  the  only 
living  soul  who  could  vouch  for  having  seen  me  and 
Henri  as  separate  human  beings.  Besides  his  identi- 
fication, I  wrote  a  description  of  de  Grasse,  and  they 
stowed  it  safely  away  in  a  strong  box,  incontrovertible 
testimony  to  be  opened  for  comparison  after  the  event. 
It  was  a  flowery  document,  believe  me !  —  Henri's  idea 
of  himself  with  elbow  jogs  by  an  eye  witness. 

Griggs  and  his  friends  intended  doing  the  thing  up 
in  regular  style  —  a  manifestation  first  and  a  supper 
following,  at  which  the  whole  performance  could  be 
sized  up.  It  was  a  rattling  good  plan,  calculated  to 
bring  their  guests  back  at  the  double  quick  from  higher 
spiritualistic  planes  to  real  life,  and  so  provide  im- 
mediately a  sane  perspective  toward  past  events.  The 
medium  and  I  were  both  invited,  she  to  countenance 
me,  but  I  gathered  women  were  expected  to  retire  early 
and  take  their  astral  bodies  with  them. 

Starting  from  the  hour  I  said,  "Shoot!"  Griggs 
fussed  over  me  like  a  hen  with  a  lone  chick.  I  wasn't 
any  more  myself  to  him.  Clarissa  Kendall,  the  girl 
—  pal  in  risky  exploits,  clothed  in  femininity  and 
wearing  corking  gowns  was  dead  as  a  door  nail.  He 
erected  on  her  peaceful  resting  place  a  monument  to 
Science,  and  thought  I  ought  to  show  as  little  anima- 
tion as  one  of  those  busted  torsos  in  the  Louvre.  I 
hardly  dared  to  move  or  think  or  eat.  I  cut  out  the 
daily  jaunt  through  Henri's  quarters.  Howard  was 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  283 

genuinely  shocked  to  find  I  had  been  hunting  in  such 
holes  alone. 

"  If  anything  should  happen  to  you!  " 

"  Fiddlesticks !  It's  safe  as  a  church  parade ! "  I 
objected.  "  They're  really  very  decent  when  I  talk 
to  them." 

"But  you  don't  speak  Italian?" 

"  They  understand  my  lingo.     Oh,  for  pity's  sake !  " 

He'd  drawn  a  notebook  from  his  pocket,  and  com- 
menced to  write.  I  sat  frowning.  When  he'd  finished 
his  comment  and  returned  his  pencil  to  its  proper  stall, 
he  regarded  me  in  some  concern. 

"  Clarissa,  old  thing!  You  appear  distinctly  pipped. 
There's  something  rummy  in  your  manner  which  gives 
me  an  idea  you're  not  keen  on  this  investigation,  don't 
you  know." 

"  Keen !  How  can  I  be  keen  when  you're  always 
croaking  at  me?  'If  anything  happened!  If  any- 
thing happened ! '  I'm  the  goat  that  ought  to  be  but- 
ting in  on  trouble.  The  Lord  only  knows  what's  go- 
ing to  happen  Wednesday  evening  —  and  I  want  to 
forget  it.  Do  keep  quiet  —  you'd  make  a  hippopot- 
amus nervous ! " 

I  was  shaking  in  my  shoes  and  I  left  off  trying  to 
hide  it.  One  overt  act  before  the  seance  showed  my 
mental  attitude.  I  made  a  will.  The  notion  took  me 
all  of  a  sudden,  and  I  put  it  up  to  Sir  Gillespie.  He 
pooh-poohed  me  at  first. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  nothing  can  possibly  happen 
to  you  in  a  simple  hypnotic  sleep.  Why  do  you  imag- 
ine, if  we  thought  there  was  risk  —  the  slightest  risk  — 
that  we  would  permit  you  to  expose  yourself?  " 

"  Look  what  happened  last  time." 


284  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

He  hummed  and  hawed.  "  Most  unfortunate  circum- 
stances —  most  unusual.  I  think  we  can  guarantee  that 
murder  will  not  take  place  among  us."  His  blue  eyes 
twinkled  behind  round  glasses,  but  seeing  me  grave  as 
a  tomb,  he  hastened  to  add :  "Of  course  if  it  would 
be  any  satisfaction  to  you  — a  will  is  an  excellent 
institution.  We  each  like  to  feel  we  have  left  our  lit- 
tle legacies  into  a  particular  pocket.  I  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  find  a  solicitor.  Plenty  of  time  to-morrow 
morning.  I'll  bring  the  fellow  here  and  he  will  tie 
you  up  in  reddest  of  red  tape." 

The  dear  old  chap  would  have  sung  another  tune 
had  he  known  what  strange  intention  lay  behind  Clar- 
issa's girlish  thanks. 

The  next  day  a  lean  Italian,  speaking  English  like 
a  dictionary  with  all  the  biggest  words  at  his  tongue's 
end,  and  no  conception  of  a  sound  slang  phrase,  waited 
on  me  in  the  hotel.  I  knew  exactly  what  I  wanted  to 
say  and  said  it,  and  he  repeated  the  words  with  a  hair- 
splitting .pronunciation.  The  writing  proved  to  be 
an  elaborate  affair.  But  when  it  was  finished,  and 
our  names  signed,  and  the  gist  of  it  bound  as  tight  as 
a  lasso  on  a  wild  steer,  I  went  to  hunt  Sir  Gillespie. 

"  And  so  you  have  apportioned  your  little  pile,  young 
lady?"  he  said,  beaming.  "Do  you  feel  better  and 
safer?" 

"  The  paper  disposes  of  about  two  million  pounds, 
sir,  so  I  hope  you  wonit  lose  it.  Not  having  any  rela- 
tives the  document  can't  be  legally  contested.  You 
will  find,  if  you  have  occasion  to  read  it,"  he  smiled, 
"  I  have  named  you  and  Sir  Herbert  and  Mr.  Griggs 
as  executors ;  and  I  trust,  when  you  get  the  connection, 
you  won't  have  any  objections  to  acting." 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  285 

Objections!  I  guess  they  wouldn't!  I  had  given 
instructions  to  Swanhill,  and  the  Paris  and  London 
brokers,  to  sell  my  rubber  shares,  all  of  them,  im- 
mediately, at  the  market.  (Gee!  Afterwards  I  al- 
most wished  I'd  died!)*  And  I  had  willed  the  bulk  of 
my  fortune  to  the  cause  of  Science  —  to  be  used  in 
research.  I  was  dead  scared  that  Henri,  being  so 
much  smarter,  would  take  this  opportunity  to  push  me 
out ;  or  maybe  we'd  get  balled  up  by  accident  and  both 
practise  a  skidoo.  Anyway,  if  Clarissa  Kendall  was 
left  among  the  spooks,  I  meant  her  to  have  a  human 
chance  of  getting  back  again.  And  I  knew  the  three 
Englishmen  would  give  me  a  square  deal. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

I  shall  never  forget  the  appearance  of  the  seance 
when  I  was  ushered  in.  The  room  was  oblong,  large 
and' high.  A  good  part  of  its  furniture  had  been  re- 
moved to  make  way  for  their  work,  but  heavy  cur- 
tains, close  drawn  over  every  window,  lent  it  com- 
fort; and  it  was  lighted  like  the  Great  White  Way. 
Afterwards,  they  switched  off  the  illumination  so  that 
rays  from  one  lamp  only  played  upon  the  medium,  but 
at  the  time  I  found  those  gay  electroliers  most  reassur- 
ing. Seats  for  the  guests  had  been  arranged  in  a 
semicircle,  and  the  guests  were  sitting  on  them. 
Everything  suggested  law  and  order.  Beyond  the 
folding  doors  the  supper  was  preparing  and  here  we 
waited  for  an  entertainment.  In  the  arch  of  the  bow 
formed  by  our  earnest  friends  stood  a  common  little 
deal  table  with  a  vacant  chair  placed  on  either  side  of 
it,  and  in  front  of  this  again  was  the  cabinet. 

"  Jumpin'  Jupiter !  "  I  cried.  "  Are  you  going  to 
put  me  in  there  ?  "  And  I  began  to  back  away.  But 
Sir  Herbert  explained  it  was  only  a  shelter  for  Henri, 
should  he  care  to  manifest  himself. 

Spirits,  being  in  the  know  and  shy  of  mankind's 
tricks,  won't  consent  to  parley  unless  they  can  have 
their  backs  to  the  wall.  In  fact  they  prefer  the  se- 
curity of  three  walls,  and  invitations  are  issued  to  them 
through  a  sort  of  coffin;  which  is  very  natural  seeing 
it's  their  last  association  with  an  actual  body  in  a  ma^ 

286 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  287 

terial  world.  All  the  same  the  idea  took  the  tuck  out 
of  me. 

"  I  fail  to  get  your  drift,"  I  answered.  "  This  whole 
contrivance  is  for  the  reappearance  of  the  dead,  while 
Henri  is  a  fine  live  wire  —  and  don't  you  folks  forget 
it!" 

Of  course  the  heavy-weights  smiled  at  my  simple 
protest,  and  then  we  sat  as  solemn  as  elders  at  a  cottage 
prayer  meeting.  The  services  of  the  reporter  had 
been  dispensed  with  out  of  consideration  for  me,  and 
I'll  bet  the  bunch  were  mighty  glad  of  it  later  on. 
We  waited.  The  red-haired  chap  and  another  got 
their  heads  together  in  an  argument  and  were  frowned 
down  by  higher  authority.  Still  we  waited.  The 
party  couldn't  begin  without  the  leading  lady,  and  she 
took  her  own  time. 

The  medium  was  a  substantial  person,  decidedly  of 
the  lower  classes,  with  a  kind  face  and  a  good  charac- 
ter. Nothing  less  witchified  could  have  been  imagined, 
except  that  her  eyes  held  pots  of  knowledge.  When 
she  did  come,  she  got  busy  right  away  and  that  was 
all  I  savveyed.  It  was  all  Clarissa  Kendall  knew  for 
seven  ghoulish  days  and  eight  uneasy  nights. 

Gee !  What  a  scare  I  gave  them  —  worse  than 
sharks  in  Jersey  waters  or  infantile  paralysis! 

Every  man- jack  was  trembling  in  his  shoes  and 
hanging  around  the  hotel  corridor  asking,  "  How  is 
she  ?  "  with  chalk-white  faces  and  care-crushed  mien. 

Quite  a  change  from  the  "  happen  "  motif,  wasn't 
it? 

Griggs  felt  the  deepest-dyed  villain,  seeing  he  had 
urged  it  on  me,  and  was  largely  responsible  for  my 
consenting.  He  explained  the  context  to  me  after- 


288  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ward,  sitting  by  my  bedside  and  covering  my  wrist 
watch  with  a  firm,  strong  hold,  as  if  he  half  antici- 
pated I  would  spark  away  in  flame  as  they  had  seen 
de  Grasse  go  out.  For  they  did  see  Henri  —  of  all 
the  funny  stunts!  Can  you  tie  it?  Did  you  ever 
hear  it  beaten  ? 

During  two  full  hours  that  evening  the  scientists 
fairly  revelled,  enjoying  the  time  of  their  lives.  I 
had  gone  straight  off  into  a  beautiful  sleep,  for  de 
Grasse  knew  how  to  work  it  from  his  end  too  and 
there  wasn't  a  hitch.  But  the  medium,  well  aware 
she  ventured  on  unbroken  ground,  proceeded  cau- 
tiously. The  seance  opened  in  the  lowest  grade  with 
table-rapping  and  a  bluish  light.  The  unnatural  ra- 
diance, which  seemed  to  be  the  evidence  of  Henri's 
spirit,  hovered  around  the  cabinet  for  a  while  and  then 
decided  to  peep  inside.  She  spoke  to  him  and  he 
talked  back.  At  first  there  resounded  a  mad  riot  of 
knocking.  She  listened  to  the  very  end  of  the  clatter 
and  then  translated  it.  He'd  been  telling  her  what 
he  did  in  New  York  with  Lady  Deering,  and  how  he 
had  been  shot.  They  asked  him  if  he  was  wise  to 
who  did  it  ?  He  rapped,  "  yes,"  and  added,  "  Rath- 
gartz."  But  he  refused  to  say  why. 

"  Was  it  about  money?  "  she  asked. 

"  No." 

"Spiritualism?" 

"  No." 

"  Love?  "  suggested  a  man  at  the  end  of  the  line. 

"  Love  ?  "  repeated  the  Italian  woman.  And  Henri 
laughed  —  quite  distinctly  —  there  in  the  black  box. 
But  he  didn't  answer. 

"  Crime?  "  asked  Griggs.     The  rest  murmured,  say- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  289 

ing  it  wasn't  any  sort  of  a  position  to  put  a  decent 
spook  into,  and  he  changed  the  form  of  the  question. 

"Diamonds?"  she  repeated. 

Suddenly  the  light  went  clean  out  of  the  box.  The 
winged  snake  appeared  vividly  to  all  of  them  and 
floated  across  the  room.  They  didn't  pay  it  much  at- 
tention and  were  regularly  cut  up  over  their  careless- 
ness when  I  drew  a  sketch  of  the  D.  T's  for  them  later. 
But  at  the  time  they  felt  so  disappointed  over  fright- 
ening de  Grasse  away  they  let  it  slip. 

I  stirred  in  my  sleep  and  moaned  a  little,  Sir  Her- 
bert said.  He  was  nearest  to  me.  It  must  have  been 
a  baby  moan,  because  the  rest  all  thought  absolute 
silence  had  fallen  on  his  flight. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  begin  over  again.  The 
medium  knew  now  she  was  working  along  with  a 
master  and  could  attempt  high  A,  so  she  placed  her- 
self inside  the  cabinet  and  went  to  sleep.  They  sat 
waiting,  waiting  for  the  longest  while.  All  saw  her 
plainly  —  the  oval  of  her  face  foreshortened  as  her 
head  drooped,  and  the  white  blur  of  her  folded  hands 
sunk  in  her  lap. 

The  whole  twelve  men  longed  so  ardently  for  Henri 
to  show  himself,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  grand  smash 
at  the  end,  I'd  have  held  they  projected  his  image  by 
the  concentrated  power  of  their  own  idea.  They  say 
when  fellows  get  side-tracked  on  these  lines,  go  dippy 
for  the  supernatural,  they're  able  to  persuade  each 
other  black  is  white  and  right  is  wrong.  Maybe  so, 
reason  does  a  heap  of  funny  stuff  even  at  its  sound- 
est. All  I  can  write  about  this  is  the  facts  as  Howard 
related  them. 

Hope  was  lingering  in  the  last  throes  and  some  of 


290  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

the  doubters  were  commencing  to  fidget,  when,  bingo ! 
Without  a  particle  of  warning  that  white  light  glided 
over  the  box  again  and  dipped  inside  it.  Attention 
rose  to  fever  heat.  Griggs  says  he  could  feel  his  soul 
kind  of  parting  asunder  as  if  it  was  being  stretched 
on  a  rack,  his  way  of  expressing  that  the  pace  was 
strained.  Blue  is  blue  and  white  is  white  in  spiritual- 
ism. The  glow  just  witnessed  indicated  a  manifesta- 
tion. 

The  curtains  thrown  open  on  the  face  of  the  cab- 
inet twitched  as  if  somebody  was  fooling  with  them, 
and,  finally,  gave  a  wallop,  a  life-sized  yank,  and  hung 
down  closed  together.  Through  two  scallops  where 
the  edges  didn't  quite  meet,  they  could  see  the  light 
was  still  inside,  but  it  had  grown  dimmer.  It  ex- 
panded. Presently  it  seemed  to  envelop  the  box  turn- 
ing it  grayish  in  the  gloom.  Then  complete  motion- 
lessness  fell  over  the  room.  The  deadly  calm  not  only 
surrounded  the  cabinet,  but  gathered  the  watchers  into 
one  intense  emotion.  The  sensation  was  that  of  be- 
ing in  a  void,  absolutely  detached,  floating  where  there- 
was  no  air  to  breathe,  nothing  to  convey  sound,  no 
means  of  reckoning  the  period  involved.  Griggs  only 
knew  it  lasted  till  the  curtains  quivered  and  Henri 
stood  before  them. 

He  was  dressed  in  the  same  dark  nondescript  clothes 
he  had  worn  at  the  first  seance,  and  his  body  was 
strangely  shadowy.  But  his  face,  the  handsome, 
mocking,  evil  face  with  its  suavity  and  its  unreliability 
could  easily  be  distinguished  even  at  a  distance. 

"  Jove !  "  Howard  said  under  his  breath. 

The  red-haired  man  asked,  "  Are  you  de  Grasse?  " 
And  Henri  bowed. 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  291 

The  movement  was  unmistakable.  He  raised  his 
hand  and  allowed  his  fingers  to  rest  on  the  end  of  his 
moustache.  He  did  not  twist  it.  The  act  remained 
unfinished,  suggesting  the  incompetence  of  a  mechan- 
ical doll.  Henri  was  evidently  not  quite  at  home  with 
himself. 

Remembering  their  earlier  imprudence  our  bunch 
dared  not  question  him.  They  had  achieved  enough 
for  a  first  trial  by  simply  getting  into  touch.  So  they 
sat  and  watched  him  like  a  row  of  mummies  in  a  show 
case,  while  he  proceeded  to  glide  toward  the  table. 

All  this  time  the  medium  slept  soundly  in  her  sentry 
box  and  I  slept  where  she'd  left  me  in  a  chair  at  the 
end  of  that  same  table. 

Our  big- wigs  can't  agree  among  themselves  as  to 
whether  the  spirit  wearing  Henri's  personality  was 
really  Henri,  or  a  fresh  guy  who  had  borrowed  his 
Sunday  suit,  hands  and  face  and  all,  and  was  out  for 
mischief.  The  burning  question  up  to  Science  is  what 
they've  bagged  after  they've  made  the  killing.  But 
whichever  way  you  work  it,  one  thing's  certain.  The 
garments  of  humanity  these  spookies  hang  about  them- 
selves are  gathered  from  the  astral  body  of  the  sleep- 
ing medium.  In  this  affair  the  spirit  may  have  mixed 
my  aura  up  with  hers,  or  may  have  wanted  to.  He 
evidenced  a  skimpy  line  of  goods.  None  of  the  twelve 
wise  men  could  tell  the  size  or  pattern  of  his  shoes.  He 
did  not  walk  —  the  footless  do  not  walk.  He  just 
proceeded  toward  me  —  a  fiend  or  a  friend,  crafty, 
yet  with  a  I-don't-care-a-damn  manner  that  was  de 
Grasse  incarnate. 

When  he  reached  a  spot  exactly  behind  my  chair, 
opposite  Sir  Herbert,  the  demon  leaped. 


292  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Those  wooden  hands  unskilled  in  detail  were  not 
necessary  for  the  finish.  A  something  infinitely 
stronger  seized  my  throat.  His  body  seemed  to  cover 
me  like  water,  transparent,  fluid.  A  dog's  snarl  ripped 
the  silence;  but  the  struggle,  if  there  was  a  struggle, 
took  place  within  my  body. 

Instanter  the  men  rose  to  their  feet.  I  wonder 
partly  if  the  sounds  were  not  emitted  from  their  own 
dry  throats? 

Quick  as  thought  Sir  Herbert  sprang  on  the  as- 
sassin. He  swears  he  was  at  grips  with  something  for 
a  second.  They  only  saw  him  clutch  the  air  and  fall 
across  my  knees. 

On  the  instant  a  terrific  racket  started  in  the  cab- 
inet. The  curtains  hung  together  tightly  as  if  a  great 
hand  closed  them.  Forms  writhed  behind  their  folds. 
The  gray  shroud  melted  from  the  box  like  yards  of 
chiffon  tossed  and  tumbled  altogether,  and  then  the 
light  burst  forth  —  a  bright,  white,  splendid  incan- 
descence threefold  the  power  that  had  entered.  It 
blazed  and  vanished.  A  cry,  sharp  but  not  loud  — 
the  agony  of  soul  surrender  —  marked  its  going.  The 
cry  had  come  from  me. 

Griggs  was  the  first  to  pull  himself  together  and 
switch  on  the  current.  Except  for  frightened  faces 
and  standing  instead  of  sitting  guests  the  room  was  as 
it  had  been.  I  lay  easily  in  the  chair,  my  clothing 
was  unruffled,  no  sign  of  personal  violence  showed. 
Presently  the  medium  came  out  of  sleep  and  started 
on  the  regular  reviving  stunt.  She  turned  the  trick 
three  times  —  but  nothing  doing !  Clarissa  slumbered 
sweetly.  The  old  guard  exchanged  glances,  and  Sir 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  '293 

Herbert  commenced  to  wring  his  hands,  he  was  ter- 
ribly upset,  poor  dear. 

When  I'd  lain  locked  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus,  and 
withstood  her  ablest  efforts  for  an  hour,  the  medium 
gave  up.  She  said  de  Grasse  must  have  quit  his 
lodgings  and  thrown  the  key  in  the  river  —  or  words 
to  that  effect.  Maybe  I  was  suffering  from  physical 
collapse  and  needed  a  medicine-man,  anyway  she'd 
reached  her  limit.  And  with  that  she  put  on  her  hat 
and  coat  and  walked  out. 

They  sent  for  doctors,  and  doctors  found  my  heart 
just  beating,  my  pulse  hardly  noticeable,  and  my  breath 
not  noticeable  at  all  —  except  on  the  edge  of  a  feather. 
They  returned  the  same  verdict  — "  Collapse." 

Griggs,  white  about  the  gills,  tore  up  the  place  like 
a  forty-two  centimeter  shell.  The  manager  was  sum- 
moned, a  nurse  installed,  I  was  carried  to  my  room  and 
put  to  bed.  Ice  packs  were  ordered,  hot  water  bags, 
electrical  appliances,  everything  that  could  be  done 
was  done  —  but  there  I  lay. 

Hourly  day  and  night  a  scared  inquirer  would  tip- 
toe to  my  closet,  and,  tapping,  whisper  eagerly  the  new 
refrain :  "  How  is  she  ?  "  Always  answered  by  three 
pregnant  notes, 

"  No  change,  sir." 

I  was  alive  but  not  present  —  where  then?  Had  I 
gone  callihooting  off  on  the  trail  of  the  spirit?  And 
him  such  a  dangerous  fellow! 

My  chaperones  rang  the  changes  in  every  known 
form  of  fear,  with  a  few  new  patterns  recently  im- 
ported to  add  distinction.  Aside  from  the  extreme 
inconvenience  of  having  me  die  on  their  hands,  I  be- 


294  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

lieve  it  would  have  knotted  crape  about  their  very 
souls  had  I  telegraphed  a  change  of  plans  and  gone 
away,  without  so  much  as  treating  them  to  a  picture 
post  card  of  my  recent  trip.  They  longed  to  hang 
upon  my  words,  and  I  kept  right  on  saying  nothing. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  day  Griggs  wired  to  Paris 
for  a  specialist  —  a  pink  of  doctors.  He  came, 
he  saw,  he  lingered.  He  felt  my  pulse,  listened 
to  my  heart,  tested  my  breathing,  lifted  my  eyelids, 
did  all  the  local  men  had  done  —  no  more,  and  charged 
a  thousand  pounds  for  telling  them  to  let  me  lie  and 
watch  me.  There  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  watch  me. 
And  then  he  also  joined  the  waiting  group.  I  was 
sure  some  case !  Extreme  physical  depression  follow- 
ing mental  shock  had  been  his  diagnosis.  I  might  re- 
cover and,  on  the  other  hand,  might  die.  Probably  if 
I  recovered,  the  carus  would  save  me  from  insanity. 

They  held  no  more  seances  at  Frascati.  The  So- 
ciety's meeting  officially  closed.  Its  members  were  all 
in  the  same  boat  and  it  was  no  use  to  squeal,  but  some 
of  them  drummed  up  excuses  for  ducking  out  in  a 
hurry.  The  Englishmen  stood  by  their  guns.  How- 
ard grew  positively  thin,  his  once-upon-a-time  round 
face  lost  its  perpetual  ruddiness,  and  Sir  Herbert  and 
Sir  Gillespie  added  many  gray  hairs.  They  took  the 
biggity  nerve  chap  into  full  confidence  and  put  it  up 
to  him  whether  or  not  Henri  could  be  lying  about 
loose.  He  was  a  Catholic  and  wouldn't  express  any 
opinion  beyond  crossing  himself.  It's  one  of  the 
points  that  puzzles  me  yet.  Is  Henri  lying  around 
loose?  Did  the  devil  send  one  of  his  patrolmen  to 
run  him  in  first  time  he  crossed  the  border,  or  was 
Henri  mad  at  me  on  some  account?  Did  he  wish  to 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  295 

finish  me  or  liberate  my  spirit?  Was  it  only  clumsi- 
ness in  handling  the  astral  stuff?  Had  he  planned 
the  exit?  Was  he  sick  and  tired  of  masquerading  as 
a  skirt?  I  really  can't  conceive  de  Grasse  wanting 
to  divorce  eight  million  dollars,  so  I  guess  the  spirits 
must  have  snatched  him. 

Where  am  I  at  ?  I  always  get  mixed  thinking  about 
this! 

My  three  friends  stood  by  me  loyally  and  did  their 
turns  in  watching.  It  was  Griggs,  brooding  like  a 
statue  in  a  cemetery,  I  first  saw  when  the  lamps  lit  up. 
I  took  him  for  Madame  Buniva  come  to  call  me. 

"  What  time  is  it?  Am  I  late?  "  I  cried,  trying  to 
spring  out  of  bed.  But  the  effort  ended  in  a  little 
quiver  under  the  clothes.  I  couldn't  any  more  have 
turned  myself  over  than  a  shark  on  dry  land.  You 
see,  capping  the  nervous  prostration,  I'd  omitted  eat- 
ing for  a  week.  My  resistance  bulked  about  as  strong 
as  an  empty  barrel  with  the  hoops  off. 

Howard  sprinted  for  the  specialist,  and  when  he 
came  in  all  bushy  black  beard  and  piercing  eyes  I  be- 
gan to  feel  better.  He  allowed  me  a  cup  of  warm 
milk,  told  them  to  close  the  blinds  and  not  on  their 
life  to  let  me  talk,  and  then  he  beat  it  for  Paris.  My 
healing  was  scheduled  as  a  long  job.  After  fifteen 
days  of  nourishment  and  nothings  I  was  pronounced 
fairly  well  and  Griggs  risked  the  telling  of  their  story. 
To  their  bitter  disappointment  I  had  not  a  line  to 
add.  From  the  instant  sinking  into  slumber  until  the 
natural  awakening  my  mind  had  ceased  to  function. 
Only  one  thing  I  could  assure  them  about  —  de  Grasse 
was  no  longer  a  member  in  the  firm  of  Kendall  &  Co. 

Well,  they'd  drawn  blank  and  so  had  I.     We  de- 


IP 
296  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

cided  to  bury  the  hatchet.  Still,  my  own  loss  was  a 
purely  personal  matter  and  I  felt  it  keenly.  I  couldn't 
restrain  a  few  tears  when  Sir  Gillespie  came  to  say 
good-by  and  handed  me  my  will. 

"  You  didn't  need  the  document  after  all,"  he  said 
kindly.  "  Though  we  came  much  nearer  to  it  than  I 
imagined  possible  —  closer  than  I  ever  want  to  come 
again ! " 

I  opened  the  paper  and  let  him  read  the  plan  for  sav- 
ing myself  from  a  ghost's  career.  He  was  amazed 
and  trotted  it  off  to  his  colleague,  to  return  bubbling 
and  ask  for  a  handsome  gift  of  the  paper.  It  was 
strong  evidence  of  some  premonition  theory.  They've 
always  got  a  second  iron  in  the  fire,  these  Johnnies. 
He  joshed  me  a  bit  over  being  afraid.  I  confessed 
to  having  had  cold  feet. 

"  And  yet  you  went  in  for  the  seance  ?  You  are 
very  brave  as  well  as  clever." 

"  I  was,"  I  whimpered.  "  Bu  —  bu  —  but  I'm 
afraid  you've  spoiled  me  now.  I'm  just  a  girl  —  that 
served  in  a  shop." 

"  My  dear  young  lady/'  he  began,  wiping  his  glasses 
and  readjusting  them,  "  this  will  provides  for  the  dis- 
tribution of  millions.  Any  girl  with  a  charming, 
pretty  face  and  —  ahem  —  a  fortune,  is  bound  to  have 
a  splendid  sort  of  life.  You  must  come  to  England 
and  meet  my  daughters  —  Lady  Drake  will  write  to 
you,  care  of  the  Ritz  Carlton,  New  York,  isn't  it? 
Between  hunts  we  will  talk  a  great  deal  about  this 
matter.  I  am  most  anxious  to  know  every  detail  in 
which  you  could  recognize  de  Grasse  while  —  while 
he  was  alive." 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  297 

"Bu  —  but  I'm  so  silly.  I  feel  so  stupid.  I'll 
never  be  worth  anything  again !  "  Pride  had  been 
horribly  cut  by  my  loss,  for  of  course  I'd  enjoyed  be- 
ing two  to  everybody  else's  one  —  and  having  such  a 
fuss  made  over  me. 

"  Can't  you  tell  me  what  it  was  that  night  that  made 
you  cry  out  or  moan?  Sir  Herbert  insists  upon  the 
moan." 

"I  didn't  feel  — if  I  had,  likely  I  wouldn't  tell  it 
straight.  You  know  how  an  alarm  clock  striking  on 
your  dreams  will  turn  into  a  gas  attack  before  your 
eyes  are  open.  No,  I  guess  you  don't  either.  I  knew 
it  good  and  plenty  in  the  old  days." 

I  told  him  again  of  the  splendid  tidal  wave  of  vigor 
which  had  swept  upon  me  at  the  time  de  Grasse's  soul 
shot  into  mine.  How  I  had  been  uplifted,  eager  to 
face  lions  —  mentally  and  physically  fit.  Evidently, 
during  the  hypnotic  sleep  the  virility  had  been  with- 
drawn. I  had  grown  perfectly  accustomed  to  twice 
the  human  share  of  force  and  its  ebbing  left  me  limp. 

"  I've  lost  my  pep !  "  I  blubbered.  "  I'm  just  a  dish- 
rag  !  Look  at  me  crying  like  this  —  Henri  never 
cried.  It's  womanish !  I'll  never  get  over  it  —  I'll 
never  be  remarkable  again !  " 

The  old  boy  felt  my  implied  reproach.  They  were 
all  kind  of  on  the  apologetic,  as  if  they'd  cheated  me. 
Now  for  the  first  time  he  took  up  the  cudgels  in  de- 
fence. 

"  Miss  Clarissa,  I  believe  you  will  live  to  thank  us 
for  this  accidental  separation.  It  is  tremendous  to  be 
abnormal,  I'll  admit  that  we  lesser  creatures  bow  to 
genius  —  we  are  obliged  to.  It  is  tremendous  —  but 


298  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

it  is  often  grievous.  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  the 
better  part,  especially  for  ladies,  is  to  be  normal.  Why 
should  a  woman  not  be  womanly  ?  " 

"  But  I'll  never  have  any  adventures !  " 

"  So  far  you  have  missed  the  greatest  adventure  of 
all  —  you  have  never  been  in  love.  Not  during  de 
Grasse's  reign?  Naturally  a  dual  mind  conld  never 
be  whole-heartedly  in  love.  Each  of  you  must  have 
been  oppositely  attracted.  You  to  the  man  and  he 
to  the  woman." 

I  lay  quite  still  and  let  the  idea  sink  in.  Charley 
Ross  arose  before  me.  I  had  loved  Ross.  I  had  come 
jolly  near  it  anyway,  with  a  strong  leaning  in  that  di- 
rection. But  leaning  toward  was  all  the  sentiment 
Henri  could  stomach.  There  was  Swanhill  too  — 
and  others.  All  at  once  I  understood  why  it  had  been 
so  easy  to  leave  them,  and  on  the  other  hand  my  having 
taken  such  a  shine  to  Sue  Mainardy.  I  remembered 
the  Terrier  and  that  hour  in  the  boat  when  I  had  recog- 
nized his  double  appeal.  Being  in  love  with  a  man 
must  give  you  a  desire  to  be  swallowed  whole  —  well, 
if  you  were  swallowed  —  h'm!  Maybe  Henri  hadn't 
been  an  unmixed  blessing. 

Sir  Gillespie  was  enormously  pleased  with  himself 
for  getting  me  smoothed  down.  He  simmered  along 
in  his  best  fatherly  manner,  and  as  he  said  good-by 
gave  me  another  nut  to  crack. 

"  You  must  sleep  a  great  deal,  and  eat  a  great  deal, 
and  make  the  roses  bloom,  so  that  your  pretty  hats 
and  frocks  will  be  a  setting  for  a  splendid  jewel.  You 
have  been  seeking  treasure,  my  dear,  and  finding  it  too. 
Now  it  is  somebody  else's  turn  to  find.  Only  be  care- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  299 

ful  —  don't  bestow  your  hand  hastily.  If  you  ever 
want  an  old  man  to  act  a  guardian's  part,  any  one  to 
refer  any  one  to,  I  shall  be  delighted.  Remember  you 
have  a  vast  amount  at  your  disposal.  You  hold 
enough  in  either  hand  to  turn  men's  heads  —  and  Henri 
is  no  longer  here  to  guard  it." 

He  certainly  knew  how  to  set  one  thinking.  So 
there  was  still  a  big  game  for  little  Clarissa.  Making 
money  wasn't  perhaps  as  hard  as  keeping  it.  I  thought 
of  the  Baron  and  turned  cold.  Henri  had  never  been 
good  on  the  woman  act  —  but  he  had  been  there.  His 
anti  influence  served  to  keep  my  blood  cool.  Suppose 
von  Rathgartz,  instead  of  looking  like  a  death's  head, 
had  shone  with  all  the  beauties  of  Apollo?  I'd  been  a 
frost  to  clerks,  but  gentlemen  are  different.  They  have 
little  ways.  I  pictured  the  Baron  aged  thirty  and  knew 
him  just  the  man  to  wring  my  fortune  from  me.  As  it 
was,  he  had  advised  me  to  sell  rubber.  To  be  sure  the 
stock  was  weak  at  the  time  but  it  soared  afterward. 
Rubber  was  a  perfectly  splendid  investment  —  I'd  had 
a  hunch.  Von  Rathgartz  wanted  to  cheat  me,  and 
other  people  would  want  to  flim-flam  me  too.  I 
mustn't  have  faith  in  any  of  them.  Henri  had  put  me 
wise  about  rubber  and  I  determined  to  follow  him.  As 
far  as  money  went,  one  had  to  buy  some  sort  of  cer- 
tificates with  it.  Leaving  it  in  the  bank  was  a  mug's 
game,  apparently,  and  I  owned  too  much  for  my  stock- 
ing. If  I  was  obliged  to  hold  stocks,  then  I  might  as 
well  hold  rubber  as  anything  else.  If  it  went  down  it 
would  go  up  later.  They  all  fluctuated.  Swanhill  had 
told  me  so  when  I  first  commenced  to  buy  railways 
through  his  office.  He  said  to  put  them  in  the  bank 


J 


300  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

and  forget  about  them  and  spend  the  dividends.  Well, 
I  could  do  that  with  rubber.  I'd  just  wad  away 
Henri's  fortune  and  live  on  the  profits.  And  nobody 
would  have  a  chance  to  cheat  me. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Clarissa  fancied  making  up  her  mind  about  business 
was  a  noble,  difficult  and  all-wise  act.  But  when  it 
came  to  carrying  out  the  plot,  planning  seemed  to  be 
only  a  reach-me-down.  I  was  up  against  the  climax 
before  I  knew.  And  I  must  say  Griggs  struck  me  in 
an  unscrupulous  hour,  when  I  was  out  on  the  veranda 
for  the  first  time,  and  every  sense  steeped  in  enjoy- 
ment. The  season  was  over.  Naples  grew  warmer 
every  day,  one  could  only  live  to  enjoy.  Laughter  gets 
into  the  bones  there.  Griggs  and  I  supped  tea  and 
laughed,  and  my  hungry  eyes  ate  up  the  people. 
Never  having  been  ill  before,  the  passing  weeks  lin- 
gered along  like  years. 

Howard  sat  with  his  cup  perilously  balanced  on  one 
knee  and  made  plans  for  the  immediate  future.  He 
appeared  to  be  quite  giddy  with  pleasure  over  having 
me  around  again,  and  I  fell  for  the  gaff  and  met  him 
halfway  —  maybe  a  little  sooner.  I'd  been  lonely,  you 
see,  and  it  was  comfortable  to  have  somebody  taking 
care  of  me  and  laying  out  a  summer  that  was  to  be  a 
fair  treat.  Two  or  three  weeks  at  his  aunt's  place  in 
Devonshire  would  make  me  feel  as  game  as  a  fighting 
cock;  Hellingham  situated  in  the  north  offered  no  at- 
traction to  invalids,  its  turn  must  come  later,  with  Lady 
Drake's  invitation.  Sir  Gillespie  had  never  been  a 
four-flusher  in  hospitality,  and  so,  of  course,  I  was 
booked  for  a  visit  at  the  "  Grange."  Darling  woman, 

301 


302  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Lady  Constance,  topping  girls,  one  son  a  rotter  and  the 
other  in  the  army  mostly  away  from  home.  Their 
place,  he  said,  was  celebrated  for  its  shooting  and  I'd 
have  a  rattling  good  time  there  during  the  autumn,  but 
between  this  and  that  he  hoped  to  show  me  a  real  Lon- 
don season. 

"  Balls  and  dinners?  "  I  asked. 

"Jove,  yes!"  Several  a  night  if  I  cared  to  dine 
double,  receptions  and  all  that  hardly  counted.  What 
he  wanted  to  do  was  to  take  me  to  the  Derby  on  a  drag. 
Show  me  a  real  horse  race  on  the  real  turf.  He  prom- 
ised tickets  for  the  Royal  enclosure  at  Ascot.  There 
would  be  polo  at  Hurlingham  and  the  Henley  regatta, 
and  all  the  university  sprees  I  cared  for.  We  must  do 
Lord's  too  — 

"  Cricket,  don't  you  know,"  he  explained.  "  One 
hasn't  seen  England,  unless  one  has  watched  a  cricket 
match.  Jolly  amusing  place,  Lord's !  " 

"  Oh,  Griggsy !  "  I  cried.  "  You're  the  grandest 
planner!  De  Grasse  can  go  'way  back  and  sit  down. 
I've  never  been  anywhere  or  seen  anything.  When 
you  told  me  about  Angelica,  I  thought  it  was  a  scream 
—  and  now  I  almost  envy  her.  As  a  guardian  of  the 
young  — " 

"Easy  on!" 

I  laughed  joyously.  It  was  a  perfect  moment ;  and 
right  there  in  the  full  flight  of  my  enthusiasm,  while 
I  was  telling  him  his  goodness  and  his  kindness,  and 
calling  him  an  excellent  pal,  the  boy  turned  traitor. 
I'm  glad  to  think  shame  flushed  him  up  a  bit,  though 
he  always  went  shrimp  pink  over  tapping  the  wires  on 
other  people's  private  affairs. 

"  I  hate  to  bother  you  about  business.     It's  tolerably 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  '303 

rummy  to  be  serious  on  a  perfectly  top  hole  day  like 
this.  But  since  you've  mentioned  it  —  put  me  in  a 
responsible  position,  don't  you  know.  I  —  Clarissa, 
old  thing !  You  ought  to  be  taking  some  —  some  ac- 
tion about  your  rubber." 

"  Rubber!  "  I  bristled.  So  soon,  eh,  and  from  this 
quarter.  The  source  of  the  blow  more  than  the  blow 
itself  threw  me  out  of  my  reckoning.  I  knew  Griggs 
never  butted  in.  He  must  then  be  very  determined, 
have  a  particular  object  in  view.  And  he  was  so  in- 
tent on  it  he  failed  to  grasp  my  attitude. 

"  Swanhill  has  been  pestering  me  with  cables.  I  was 
obliged  to  inform  him  of  your  illness,  and  since  that  he 
has  been  wiring  me.  Jove!  The  stuff  looks  weak. 
He's  afraid  when  you  begin  to  sell  —  you'll  bust  the 
whole  bally  market." 

"  Tell  him  to  keep  his  hair  on,"  I  answered  sharply. 
"  I'm  not  thinking  of  selling  —  not  a  single  share." 

My  companion  stared.  "  But  isn't  it  awfully  seri- 
ous? Of  course  I'm  not  a  jolly  specialist  on  these 
matters  —  know  jolly  little  about  'em.  Old  Dibbs  at 
home  looks  after  all  that.  Still,  if  it  should  go  —  go 
down  —  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

Another  cup  of  tea  poured  in  stony  silence  empha- 
sized my  coolness,  and,  I  hoped,  a  certain  amount  of 
annoyance. 

"  Why  do  anything?  Unless  I  order  them  to  buy 
some  more." 

"  It  sounds  sporting  but  I  —  it's  not  safe,  Clarissa. 
The  brokers  wouldn't  have  been  sending  those  mes- 
sages short  of  a  crisis,  I  mean  to  say  a  panic  —  a 
threatened  panic.  Swanhill  — " 

"  I'm  on  to  him."     My  grim  words  cut  Howard 


304  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

short.  After  he  had  finished  his  tea,  he  began  again. 
Beaty  certainly  had  primed  him  to  talk  me  over. 

"  Buying  is  a  splendid  idea  —  only  —  Jove !  Won't 
it  take  an  astonishing  amount  of  cash?  " 

"  Money!     Not  more  than  eight  million  dollars." 

"  But  you  don't  possess  eight  millions  in  money,  dear 
girl.  Buying  will  take  a  lot  of  gold.  How  much  have 
you  in  the  bank  ?  Oh,  I  say !  I  didn't  mean  that !  " 

His  face  turned  scarlet,  and  my  anger  long  repressed 
flashed  out.  Not  so  much  against  him  as  against  the 
rotten  combination  they  had  dragged  him  into. 

"  Howard  Griggs,  I  think  it's  extremely  nasty  of 
you  to  —  to  try  to  do  me  this  way  —  when  I'm  sick 
—  not  myself  that  is." 

"  Trying  to  do  you !  Dash  it !  I'm  only  making  an 
effort  to  explain  the  situation.  You  can't  afford  to 
chuck  away  the  right  stuff  any  more  than  others." 

"  I  don't  want  your  old  explanation !  I  know  it 
runs  like  a  brook.  It's  arranged  to  run  —  to  wash 
metal  —  to  wash  it  out  of  my  pocket  and  into  Beaty's. 
He  tells  me  to  sell.  You  tell  me  to  sell.  That  wicked 
Baron  chap  in  Monte  Carlo  told  me  to  sell  long  before 
the  stock  quit  climbing.  But  I  know  why  all  of  you 
are  so  anxious  to  get  me  out.  Rubber  is  an  A-i  in- 
vestment. Everybody  wants  to  crowd  in,  and  when  I 
own  so  much  of  all  the  rubber  in  the  world,  naturally 
they  have  to  elbow  me  away  from  the  trough  before 
they  can  stand  in  my  place." 

Griggs  sat  a  while  silent  gazing  down  on  Naples. 
He  was  mad  clear  through  and  didn't  trust  himself  to 
speak  until  the  mad  looked  passed,  then  his  voice  was 
very  quiet. 

"  You  are  not  yourself,  Clarissa,  so  I'll  forgive  your 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  305 

lack  of  confidence.  Only  allow  me  to  say  one  thing. 
Rubber  is  no  investment,  even  an  outsider  can  see  that. 
The  boom  is  a  bally  big  gamble  from  start  to  finish, 
and,  if  the  brokers  have  been  gassing  you  about  invest- 
ment, it's  a  crime." 

"  No  use  to  talk !  "  I  cried  excitedly.  "  With  auto- 
mobiles and  new  inventions  using  it  up  like  wildfire 
rubber's  a  necessity  of  life  and  necessities  are  good 
investment.  I've  got  my  feet  on  the  swellest  planta- 
tions and  I'm  going  to  stay  put  —  wild  horses  won't 
drag  me  off.  If  the  stock  goes  down,  it  will  rise  again 
—  just  you  watch.  Beaty  told  me  so  himself.  He 
said  putting  first  class  propositions  down  artificially 
and  making  the  little  fellows  skidoo  so  the  big  guns 
could  hog  it  all  themselves  was  the  Wall  Street  game. 
They  call  it  fair  —  the  only  way  with  brokers  is  to  be 
too  cute  for  them  —  I'm  not  surprised  over  their  trying 
to  cheat  me,  but  I  am  amazed  that  you  should  be  mixed 
up  in  it,  Howard." 

"  Sorry  you  take  it  that  way,"  he  replied  stiffly.  "  I 
sold  all  my  stock  before  leaving  New  York,  so  my  ad- 
vice is  at  least  disinterested.  What  you  say  is  true. 
There's  manipulation,  and  bucket  shops,  and  a  host  of 
other  pitfalls  connected  with  the  business,  but  on  the 
other  hand,  don't  you  know,  there  are  some  decent 
brokers.  I  introduced  Swanhill  to  you,  and  though  he 
is  a  bit  of  a  rounder,  I  believe  he's  honest  —  looking 
out  for  his  client's  interest  and  all  that.  He  didn't 
own  a  share  of  rubber  when  I  left." 

"  All  cleaned  up  at  the  top  and  ready  to  buy  in  at 
the  bottom,  eh  ?  "  I  sneered. 

Griggs  refused  to  discuss  the  matter  further.  He 
was  terribly  hurt  and  angry  over  being  called  a  crook. 


306  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

Englishmen  don't  understand  how  one  can  be  too  keen 
financially,  and  quite  respectable  along  other  lines. 
We  chatted  a  while  about  indifferent  things,  but  neither 
of  us  was  having  any  fun,  so  I  allowed  I  was  tired 
and  left  him  alone  to  be  ashamed  of  himself. 

Isn't  it  the  limit  how  huffy  a  man  gets  if  a  woman 
don't  open  her  mouth  and  swallow  his  opinions  whole  ? 
Howard  stuck  to  it  I  ought  to  sell.  His  obstinacy 
seemed  to  me,  then,  a  part  of  the  big  plot,  and  I  kept 
my  back  up.  He  fetched  and  carried  for  me  till  I  was 
on  my  legs,  but  our  twosums  weren't  the  same  lark. 
Misunderstanding  hung  between  us  like  a  wall.  We 
failed  to  get  each  other's  jokes.  We  aggravated  each 
his  own  nationality  with  its  peculiarities.  I  began  to 
feel  I  bored  him.  Trifles  got  on  his  nerves.  I'd  see 
him  shy  away  from  a  slang  phrase  as  if  it  was  a  fast 
one;  and  that  got  my  Angora.  So  when  I  was  well 
enough  to  leave  Italy,  I  broke  it  to  him  straight  that  I 
was  going  back  to  America.  His  aunty  had  come 
down  with  her  invitation  all  right,  and  I  dare  say  How- 
ard would  have  carried  our  program  through;  but 
I  wasn't  going  to  be  under  compliment  to  him  —  not 
after  the  mean  way  he'd  acted.  Anyhow  I  guess 
there's  nothing  better  in  London  than  we  can  put  up  in 
little  old  New  York. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Granny  used  to  say,  "  A  man's  as  big  as  he  can 
build."  But  then  she'd  never  seen  a  skyscraper,  or 
else  my  difficulty  lay  in  not  being  able  to  handle  Henri's 
pile.  Without  de  Grasse  I  wasn't  up  to  the  gilt-edged 
social  stunt.  As  we  steamed  into  New  York  harbor, 
which  I'd  never  seen  from  a  ship  before,  owing  to 
the  exclusiveness  of  my  last  voyage,  I  knew  I  was 
shrinking  to  about  the  size  of  a  peanut.  Instead  of 
thrills  and  throbs  and  all  the  advertised  emotions, 
I  just  naturally  felt  I  was  a  shop  girl,  perhaps  worth 
a  little  more  than  nine  fifty  per.,  but  no  better  able 
to  hold  down  Miss  Stacy's  job  than  to  be  President  of 
the  United  States. 

Of  course  I'd  been  to  places  and  seen  things  with 
my  own  eyes.  No  amount  of  soul  shifting  could 
deprive  me  of  experience ;  and  I'd  learned  from  Henri 
the  tip  is  to  give  the  world  a  left-hander,  and  you'll 
almost  get  a  black  eye  from  the  return  rush  —  but 
for  the  life  of  me  I  couldn't  bring  it  off.  Every  time 
I  opened  my  mouth  I  was  afraid  of  putting  my  foot 
into  it.  I  commenced  to  weigh  the  idea  of  going  to 
college  and  getting  more  educated  so  that  I  could 
curb  my  talk,  or  the  chances  of  butting  into  the  four 
hundred  by  doing  charity  work.  Henri  always 
despised  the  climber  squad,  but  I  couldn't  think  of 
anything  original  to  do. 

307 


308  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  streamed  into  the  Ritz  at  lunch  hour,  and  imme- 
diately after  called  Swanhill,  intending  to  pass  him 
an  invitation  to  dinner  and  then  have  our  quarrel  out. 

The  minute  they  took  my  name  on  the  wire  I 
twigged  things  sounded  strained.  And  by-and-by, 
when  Beaty  condescended  to  speak,  I  got  it  in  the 
neck.  I  was  busted.  Dead  down  and  out!  Rubber 
had  kept  right  on  tobogganing  in  spite  of  my  blockade. 
The  amount  I  could  put  up  for  fresh  margins  and 
carry  the  load  wasn't  a  straw  to  the  Galveston  flood. 

"  You've  been  holding  a  tea  cup  under  Niagara," 
Beaty  explained  with  the  fish ;  and  conversed  at  length 
on  the  subject  of  water. 

"  I'm  the  goat,"  I  agreed  ruefully.  "  One  lesson 
like  this  ought  to  be  enough." 

From  the  broker's  manner  I  could  see  he  thought  it 
one  too  many.  Of  course  I'd  turned  him  down  on 
sentiment  earlier,  so  I'd  no  legitimate  kick  coming  re- 
garding the  icy  mitt,  and  it  was  decent  of  him  to  pay 
the  dinner  check,  still  it  hurt  to  shake  hands  and  know 
all  was  over  between  me  and  the  aristocracy.  Unless 
Clarissa  Kendall,  by  her  lone,  could  strike  another 
Lelland  there  wouldn't  be  any  invitations  for  week- 
ends on  the  Jersey  coast. 

I  shut  myself  solo  into  my  room  and  waded  through 
stock  reports,  balance  sheets  and  bank  books,  till  the 
bare  bones  of  my  horrible  predicament  hadn't  a  rag  left 
for  covering.  I  owed  money  to  Swanhill,  and  there 
was  Tom's  salary  to  pay  up,  my  pride  insisted  on  that, 
and  a  hotel  bill  mounting  hourly.  While  my  assets  — 
But  why  pile  on  the  agony?  The  wrong  side  of  the 
market  stuff  is  being  handed  out  pretty  regularly.  Oc- 
casionally it  sends  a  man  to  the  gutter,  but  mostly  it 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  309 

makes  him  look  sharp  and  join  in  the  job-hunting  mar- 
athon, as  it  did  me. 

A  new  refrain  commenced  to  sing  in  my  ears :  "If 
I  don't  find  it  before  the  end  of  the  month?  "  "  If  I 
don't  get  something  by  next  week  ?  " 

What  kind  of  a  job  did  I  want  ?  Well  —  not  behind 
a  counter.  Knowing  more  of  proportion  now  I  figured 
the  peachy  time  Annette  put  in  compared  to  a  sales- 
lady, and  determined,  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst, 
to  go  into  service.  I  chased  "  situations  vacant "  like 
a  terrier  after  a  rat,  up  and  down  elevators,  through 
windy  passages,  in  underground  and  "  L  "  trains ;  wait- 
ing with  my  ear  cocked  at  the  door  of  private  offices, 
and  my  eye  on  the  hole.  I  got  engagements,  but  they 
always  petered  out.  Either  I  wasn't  paid,  or  the  boss 
proved  cheeky,  or  the  firm  went  to  the  wall.  One 
morning  I  tried  an  employment  agency  to  rent  myself 
as  a  maid.  Shades  of  Annette!  The  lady  with  the 
corn-colored  transformer  and  the  cosmetic  complexion 
who  ran  the  place  said  it  wasn't  a  bit  of  good  without 
references,  and  sure  none  of  the  dames  I  interviewed 
cared  to  risk  a  stranger  next  her  diamonds.  Finally, 
when  Erma  Swanhill  appeared  at  the  desk  I  faded  out 
of  the  back  door.  If  she  had  been  looking  for  a  maid, 
she  would  have  been  just  mean  enough  to  engage  me! 

One  late  afternoon,  in  a  desperate  mood,  I  climbed 
the  inside  stairs  from  the  subway  to  the  Times  Buildr 
ing.  I  had  determined  to  advertise  and  was  endeavor- 
ing to  think  up  an  attractive  description  of  my  abilities, 
and  I  was  so  intent  on  the  fancv  sketch  I  failed  to  no- 
tice the  sleight  of  hand  lad  loafing  at  the  head  of  the 
steps. 

"  Stop  thief !  " 


310  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

A  dozen  arms  shot  out  as  the  ragamuffin  scooted  for 
the  entrance;  but  he  dissolved  among  them  like  a  blob 
of  mercury,  wriggled  away,  dashed  across  the  tiles,  and 
jumped  into  the  revolving  door  at  Forty-second  Street, 
before  the  crowd  had  well  awakened.  A  man  just  go- 
ing out  sprang  after  him  into  the  next  compartment. 
A  dark  day  had  settled  into  torrents  of  rain,  the  door- 
way was  jammed  by  folks  waiting  for  cars,  and  the 
pickpocket  found  himself  unexpectedly  trapped.  See- 
ing escape  shut  off  to  the  south,  the  kid  spun  round 
and  endeavored  to  cut  back  the  way  he  got  in.  A 
bunch  of  us  were  waiting  for  him  there  too,  and  he  had 
no  choice  but  to  travel.  He  speeded  up,  the  man  kept 
on  pursuing,  while  the  glass  door  purred.  They  flew 
around  like  squirrels  in  a  cage.  People  arriving  from 
above  and  below  began  to  horn  in  on  the  circus;  the 
crowd  beyond  got  wise  to  what  was  happening  and 
commenced  to  laugh  —  everybody  laughed.  Laughing 
put  us  all  in  such  good  humor  public  opinion  eased  up 
on  the  boy.  Obviously  being  the  lighter  he  couldn't 
hold  out  long.  The  pace  slowed,  and  the  young  gamin, 
wild-eyed  but  game,  made  a  desperate  leap  —  and 
landed  clean  in  the  arms  of  a  reporter.  A  second  later 
the  man,  grinning  broadly,  popped  from  the  door  and 
glammed  him. 

"  Here's  the  bag !  "  said  he,  holding  it  aloft.  "  None 
the  worse  for  a  trip  to  Coney  Island !  Does  anybody 
want  to  have  the  kid  arrested  ?  " 

"Not  on  your  life!"  I  cried,  pushing  forward. 
"  But  it's  a  darned  good  thing  you  froze  on  to  that 
purse,  Terrance  O'Shaughnessy,  because  my  last  red 
cent  is  in  it  and  I'm  hungry !  "  I  underestimated  the 
effect  of  that  speech.  A  couple  of  philanthropists 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  311 

moved  forward,  and  I  hung  my  head,  half -laughing 
and  half-crying. 

Terry  peeped  under  my  hat  brim  exclaiming,  "  Clar- 
issa !  "  in  accents  of  joy. 

I  felt  so  happy  I  wasn't  able  to  speak  for  a  minute, 
and  let  him  tuck  my  hand  under  his  arm,  saying: 
"  Let's  get  out  of  this.  Can  I  call  your  car?  " 

"  No,  you  can't  —  I  don't  own  a  car !  I  don't  own 
anything  any  more  • —  not  even  a  pair  of  rubbers. 
Take  me  over  to  Quids'  and  I'll  tell  you  a  Cinderella 
story  backwards." 

Having  found  him,  he  looked  too  good  to  lose,  and 
I  knew  the  surest  way  to  hold  the  Terrier  was  to  unload 
Romance.  So  over  a  marble-topped  table  and  a  fry  of 
ham  and  eggs  I  spun  the  yarn,  starting  in  Bain  & 
Dingley's  and  ending  up  to  date.  Part  of  it  I'd  told 
him  floating  on  Lake  Erie,  and  much  of  it  he  acted  in, 
but  ranging  scene  on  scene  in  order  made  it  a  brand 
new  play  —  a  thriller  too.  Not  once  did  he  show  doubt 
or  scorn  or  superiority,  but  just  sat  watching  my  face 
and  remarking,  "  Umph !  "  at  times,  to  indicate  he  was 
on. 

"  You've  never  known  the  real  Clarissa,  and  maybe 
you  won't  care  for  her,"  I  finished ;  then,  struck  by  an 
idea,  opened  my  bag  and  spilt  the  Baroness's  little  key 
out  on  the  table.  "  Here's  my  credential  that  every 
word  is  true,  this  and  Ross's  nugget  are  the  only  talis- 
mans I  keep.  Now  tell  me  all  you've  been  up  to  your- 
self." 

As  the  dinner  throng  thinned  the  air  grew  clearer, 
our  hearts  were  uplifted,  and  it's  difficult  to  beat  white 
tiles  and  nickel-plate  for  striking  a  cheerful  contrast  to 
rain  and  wind.  We  ordered  fresh  cups  of  coffee,  and 


312  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

sat  on  talking.  The  Terrier's  blue  eyes  beaming  op- 
posite made  me  feel  as  safe  as  an  insurance  policy. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  your  black  boat  ?  "  he 
asked  presently. 

"  Haven't  done  a  tap  with  her.  The  Swallow  is 
stowed  away  where  Tom  bunked  her  last  fall.  I  ought 
to  have  tried  to  sell  her  —  but  I  didn't  know  how." 

"  Good  work !  I  hoped  you  hadn't  chopped  her  up 
for  kindling  wood,  or  parted  with  her  under  the  ham- 
mer, which  I  believe  is  about  the  same  thing.  I've 
got  a  plan.  I'm  going  down  to  put  the  lady  in  the 
water,  and  maybe  you'd  like  to  take  me  boating  next 
Sunday?" 

"  Lucky  the  ocean  is  nobody's  swimming  pool,"  he 
replied  to  my  enthusiasm.  "  But  that's  not  all  — 
there's  method  in  my  madness.  Things  look  very 
much  as  if  Bully's  luck  and  mine  had  changed.  We've 
gone  into  this  new  moving  picture  business." 

I  burst  out  laughing.  "  Terry,  Terry !  I'd  never 
have  thought  it  of  you!  Are  you  playing  hero  and 
Bully  the  heavy  lead  ?  " 

He  puffed  his  cigarette,  holding  my  glance  with  an 
indignant  eye.  "  Bully  is  the  crack  camera  man  of 
America.  And  I'm  owning  actors  these  days.  An- 
other chap  and  I  got  together  on  a  film  company  — 
making  the  pictures,  you  know.  It  looked  pretty  good 
to  us  six  months  back  and  it  sizes  up  better  now. 
We're  thinking  of  building  a  big  studio  somewheres 
over  in  Jersey." 

"  Glad  you've  made  the  grade !  "  I  cried,  reaching 
for  his  hand  and  trying  to  keep  a  shade  of  wistfulness 
out  of  my  voice. 

"  Listen,  woman !     We're  running  a  story  now  with 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  313 

a  boat  in  it,  and  that's  where  you  turn  some  easy  money. 
Our  company  will  pay  you  rent  for  the  Swallow,  and  if 
you  want  to  steer  her  yourself  we'll  pay  for  your  time 
too.  By  the  Lord  Harry !  "  He  brought  his  fist  down 
making  the  cups  dance  and  jingle.  "  What  a  dub  I 
am  not  to  have  thought  of  it  at  once  —  and  you  look- 
ing for  a  job!  There's  heaps  of  things  to  be  done  be- 
side motor  boating.  You  can  dance  and  swim  and  ride 
and  golf  and  wear  clothes  —  wear  them  with  a  sting. 
Will  you  sign  on  with  us,  Clarissa?  " 

"  Are  you  offering  me  work?  "  I  quavered. 

"  Work,  sure,  and  play.  I'm  going  to  star  you  in 
an  A-i  comedy  we've  just  bought  —  a  society  plot. 
Have  you  any  clothes  left  by  chance?  " 

"  Clothes !  I  haven't  anything  but  clothes !  Trunks 
and  trunks  full  of  them  in  storage.  I  spent  weeks  in 
Naples  ordering  a  wardrobe  and  I  did  it  good  —  the 
very  latest  Paris  styles  and  gee  gaws  to  match.  Oh, 
this  is  a  blissful  day,  Terry!" 

"  Top  hole !  You'll  be  the  rage  inside  three  months. 
There's  a  stack  of  money  in  the  movies,  girl.  \Vhy,  we 
aren't  started  yet.  Wait !  By  ten  years'  time  the  swell 
actors  will  be  crawling  to  us  on  their  hands  and  knees. 
We're  going  to  cut  the  planks  clean  out  from  under 
the  feet  of  the  legitimates!  " 

"  And  you're  taking  me  in  on  the  ground  floor. 
You  are  white !  You  know  it  was  Henri  worked  the 
Lelland,"  I  added  apologetically. 

His  twinkling  eyes  showered  me  all  over  with  little 
blue  sparks,  and  I  knew  from  his  smile  he  didn't  give 
a  hoot  for  the  de  Grasse  story ;  but  all  he  ever  said  to 
show  his  unbelief  was  : 

"  Honest,  old  girl,  I  don't  find  you  a  bit  changed." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

October  found  me  broken  into  harness ;  Judson  had 
already  raised  my  pay ;  and  you  couldn't  have  told  the 
Cobalt  contingent  I  wasn't  Queen  of  the  Movies  —  not 
without  taking  chances.  Our  company  was  in  shape 
to  build  too,  and  the  Terrier  and  I  drove  pretty  near  all 
over  Jersey,  in  his  secondhand  Ford,  looking  for  a  site. 
After  a  Panhard  it  was  some  joke  to  be  travelling  in 
a  box  on  wheels  with  a  sewing  machine  doing  the  en- 
ergy act,  but  we  had  lots  of  fun  out  of  it,  and,  on  our 
final  trip,  a  cussed  run  of  luck,  so  that  by  nine-thirty 
we  were  still  coming  along  east,  trying  to  pick  up 
Newark  and  a  beefsteak.  It  was  pitchy  dark,  not  a 
hint  of  a  moon  or  any  light  but  our  own  lamps,  and 
we'd  fallen  foul  of  a  pavement  molded  on  waffle  irons. 

"  Sleepy  ?  "  asked  the  Terrier,  battling  with  her  fliv- 
ver steering  gear.  "  Don't  spoil  your  appetite  by  doz- 
ing; this  lane  isn't  much  to  brag  of,  but  it  looks  like 
business  and  we  may  eat  dinner  before  breakfast  yet." 

With  that  a  bright  red  eye  winked  in  front,  then  an- 
other and  another,  and  we  nosed  up  on  a  barrier  where 
an  arrow  with  the  well-remembered  legend  directed  us 
to  "  Detour."  From  the  map  of  the  country  we  had 
been  exploring  this  bore  the  ear-marks  of  some  little 
side-step.  We  turned  sharp  and  ran  into  a  single-track 
thoroughfare  leading  through  dense  trees,  which  pres- 
ently emerged  from  the  bush  as  a  mere  rut  across 
ploughed  fields.  Only  a  nip  of  frost  in  the  air  made 

314 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  315 

going  possible.  A  dense  black  curtain  of  darkness 
shrouded  the  sky  except  to  the  southwest,  and  what  I 
saw  there  petrified  my  gaze. 

"  Thunder  and  blazes!  Am  I  mad?  "  I  cried,  shak- 
ing myself  awake  to  stare.  "  Look,  for  the  love  of 
Mike,  and  tell  me  what  you  see !  " 

"  Strange  constellation,"  said  Terry,  and  "  Take 
care !  This  isn't  midocean,"  as  I  grabbed  his  arm. 

"  I'm  not  dippy,  then  —  not  stark  staring?  You  see 
it  too?  What  in  the  Sam  Hill  can  de  Grasse's  winged 
snake  be  doing  in  the  heavens  on  the  open  side  of 
nowhere  ?  Why  I  haven't  had  the  thing  in  mind,  not 
a  murmur  of  him,  since  the  final  act  in  Naples !  " 

"Search  me!"  I  thought  I  heard  the  Terrier 
chuckle,  and  fell  silent. 

We  continued  to  draw  up  on  the  creature,  who  stood 
clear  in  his  gaudy  reds  and  greens,  as  live  a  monster 
as  ever  wiggled  tail  or  winked  an  evil  eye.  My  amaze- 
ment grew. 

"Is  it  a  signal?  It's  not  an  hallucination?  Are 
you  positive  you  see  it,  Terry  ?  " 

"  Can't  see  anything  else !  Somebody's  spreading 
himself.  Maybe  it's  Jacobs's  racing  stables." 

"  Jews  don't  race,  you  old  Briton !  Honest,  what 
do  you  think  it  means?  " 

"  Cross  my  heart  it's  nothing  more  than  an  electric 
sign.  A  firm  manufacturing  galoshes  uses  a  trade- 
mark on  that  order  — " 

"Rubbers!"  I  cried. 

Terry  looked  at  me,  and  I  looked  at  him,  and  we 
both  commenced  to  laugh.  We  laughed  so  hard  we 
nearly  fell  out  of  the  Ford. 

"  If   it's  a  case  of  mental  telepathy,"   I  gasped, 


316  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  I'll  have  to  wire  Sir  Gillespie.  I  do  wonder  where 
they  acquired  the  scorpion  —  let's  go  and  ask." 

"  I  suspect  her  of  needing  a  drop  of  gas,  so  I'm  with 
you,"  my  companion  assented,  and  "  Cast  your  eye  on 
that  road,"  he  added,  as  we  crossed  a  strip  of  smooth 
macadam.  "  It  looks  as  if  we'd  been  on  the  wrong 
level  all  the  way  down." 

But  I  was  too  busy  over  the  idea  and  memory  of 
Henri's  gang  to  pay  him  much  attention.  On  we  spun, 
nearer  and  nearer,  darkness  enveloping  us,  with  only 
the  winged  snake  glaring  ahead.  Then  suddenly  the 
crack  of  a  revolver  split  the  night.  At  least  I  thought 
it  was  a  shot  and  jumped  a  mile,  but  it  turned  out  to  be 
a  busted  tire. 

When  the  Terrier  had  let  up  on  his  own  line  of  con- 
versation, I  pointed  to  the  bulky  formless  mass  of  a  fac- 
tory looming  in  blackness,  and  he  admitted  the  scrape 
might  have  been  worse.  We  ran  on  the  rim  to  the 
gates,  and  crossing  their  paved  court  knocked  loud 
enough  to  raise  the  dead.  Evidently  the  watchman 
Terry  expected  to  raise  was  on  the  job,  for  lights 
sprang  up  within  and  without  immediately,  and  almost 
as  soon  the  heavy  door  opened.  There  in  front  of  me, 
beneath  the  sign  of  Henri's  winged  snake,  stood  Wat- 
son Duffy. 

He  recognized  me  on  the  spot  and  was  as  cool  and 
impudent  as  ever. 

"  Baroness !  Ha,  ha !  This  is  a  joke  —  a  pleasure 
too  —  but  so  unexpected!  I  told  the  folks  in  Monte 
Carlo  we'd  run  across  each  other,  and  we  do.  You 
see,  I'm  never  wrong.  The  third's  the  charm,  too. 
Come  right  in.  Hospitality's  my  second  name." 

Talking  all  the  time  he  ushered  us  into  a  private 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  317 

office  at  the  rear,  where  another' person  sat  at  a  desk 
poring  over  papers.  Our  entrance  caused  him  to  turn 
and  spring  up.  But  I  was  getting  so  accustomed  to 
surprises  by  that  time  the  Baron's  bow  hardly  feazed 
me  at  all,  except  that  my  eyes  fell  before  his  —  in  em- 
barrassment, not  fear  —  I  remembered  his  kiss ! 

My  glance,  fleeing  from  his  ironical  regard  swept  the 
littered  table,  and  then,  indeed,  it  was  all  I  could  do  to 
cover  symptoms  of  a  leaping  heart ;  for  at  one  side,  neg- 
lected, unopened,  evidently  out  of  the  count,  stood  a 
little  gray  despatch  box. 

My  head  swam,  every  instinct  toward  adventure  left 
in  my  purely  feminine  soul,  rose  to  attention.  Vaguely 
I  heard  Duffy  saying,  "  Shake  hands  with  Baron  von 
Rathgartz,"  Terry  explaining  our  situation,  asking  for 
gas,  and  the  old  Austrian,  in  his  most  courteous  man- 
ner, offering  to  hold  a  light. 

The  men  departed  and  I  came  out  of  it  to  realize 
Duffy  was  offering  me  a  chair. 

"  For  goodness'  sake  where  are  we?  "  I  cried,  relax- 
ing my  trembling  knees. 

"  You're  in  the  headquarters  of  the  Cat's  Eye  Rubber 
Company,  that's  me,  makers  of  the  best  wearing  and 
best  fitted  rubbers  in  the  world.  Mark  you,  I  say 
it  and  I'm  never  wrong,"  he  replied  expansively. 

"Rubbers!"  I  gasped. 

"  Rubbers  —  rubber  —  the  real  commodity."  He 
grinned  from  ear  to  ear  reiterating  it,  and  I  understood 
they  knew  all  about  my  big  financial  blunder. 

Struck  once  more  by  the  cruelty  of  those  even  white 
teeth,  and  agog  with  curiosity  over  where  he  got  his 
information,  and  what  it  had  to  do  with  Henri,  I  fired  a 
string  of  questions  at  the  man. 


3i8  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Why  in  thunder  do  you  have  that  beastly  serpent 
up  above  your  roof  ?  Where  did  you  find  him  ?  Is  he 
your  own  invention  or  only  borrowed  ?  Have  you  read 
his  family  history  and  his  pedigree?  " 

"  Serpent?  What  are  you  talking  about?  Our 
trade  mark?  "  He  threw  over  a  couple  of  neat  adver- 
tisements both  emblazoned  with  a  drawing  of  Henri's 
snake,  wrongly  accented,  and  ran  on  about  rubbers  for 
a  time,  telling  me  how  he  made  them,  how  he  had 
scraped  the  capital  together,  and  cribbed  the  design 
from  a  sketch  on  a  dining-car  tablecloth. 

"  Never  miss  a  chance,  you  know.  I  saw  this  was 
a  snappy  fellow  and  ate  him  up.  Improved  him  too, 
don't  you  think?  He's  better  for  commercial  pur- 
poses anyway." 

He  punctuated  his  talk  freely  with  capital  I's,  and 
blatant  assurances  of  his  own  infallibility,  and  I  let  him 
ramble  on  while  my  mind  leaped  from  jag  to  jag  of 
past  experience.  When  the  whole  world  went  wild 
about  rubber,  I  had  attributed  the  influence  to  Jacobs 
- —  never  to  an  outsider.  But  the  thing  was  under- 
standable. Duffy  was  the  sort  to  concentrate  his  entire 
powers  on  a  new  line,  whatever  his  motive,  his  mind 
worked  over  time  —  a  dynamo  of  power  —  as  he'd 
said  himself.  On  the  gigantic  interwoven  wireless 
linking  public  opinion,  his  virility  had  flashed  a  set  of 
private  signals  to  my  supersensitive  condition.  My 
enormous  fortune  had  not  represented  de  Grasse,  after 
all,  but  William  Watson  Duffy.  I  glanced  about  —  no 
mahogany  and  silver  fittings  here,  just  serviceable  light 
oak.  Everything  in  the  office  shouted  newness  and 
efficiency.  So  this  was  Sue  Mainardy's  millionaire 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  319 

at  home.  Whew !  He  must  have  risked  the  whole  of 
his  precious  rubber  making  at  a  single  turn !  I  smiled. 
In  southern  Europe  he  and  I  had  been  a  pair  of  busted 
flushes,  and  Sue  had  taken  us  on. 

He  saw  the  smile,  caught  my  drift,  and  cut  his  reci- 
tation short. 

"What's  the  Baron  doing  here?  "  I  asked. 

"  Same  old  story.  Down  and  out  —  wife  died  and 
he  lost  his  allowance  or  something  —  so  I  brought  him 
along.  He's  selling  champagne  and  making  good." 
A  gleam  of  kindly  humor  lit  Duffy's  eye  as  he  waved 
his  hand  over  the  table. 

"  Fixing  up  his  accounts  to  see  if  he  can  afford 
Monte  next  season  —  can  you  beat  it?  I  felt  he'd 
succeed  and  I'm  never  wrong." 

Conversation  lagged.  My  mind  was  all  on  the  gray 
box.  Presently  he  vouched :  "  We've  seen  you  be- 
fore. Seen  you  in  the  Swallow  —  off  Deal  Beach." 

"  Ah !  —     But  the  past  is  past." 

Curiosity  as  to  the  source  of  his  knowledge  being 
satisfied  in  this  one  illuminating  sentence,  my  fingers 
itched  to  touch  the  mystery.  But  the  chances  of  com- 
mitting burglary  in  a  brilliantly  lighted  office,  with  a 
blatant  host  entertaining  me,  and  another  about  to  re- 
appear, seemed  nil,  till  I  heard  the  Baron's  voice  ap- 
proaching in  the  corridor. 

"  That  infernal  watchman  has  locked  up  the  stores! 
Can't  you  come  and  let  us  have  some  gasoline?  " 

Terry  said  untruthfully,  it  didn't  matter,  we'd  get 
along  without. 

"  No  you  won't  get  on  without  —  not  at  all,"  re- 
joined von  Rathgartz  in  the  irritability  of  age,  his  cour- 


320  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

tesy  outraged  by  the  idea  of  allowing  anybody  to  go 
without  anything  —  particularly  if  somebody  else  paid 
for  it. 

I  listened  not  to  Duffy's  apologies.  But,  insisting  on 
the  importance  of  gas,  my  thin  shoes,  the  lateness  of 
the  hour,  and  every  excuse  to  emphasize  our  need,  I 
hurried  them  all  off  together.  Then  with  trembling 
eager  hands  I  sought  my  talisman.  The  little  key 
went  home,  turned  like  a  charm,  and  a  second  later 
nothing  but  the  reading  of  a  printed  page  lay  between 
me  and  the  Baroness's  secret. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

The  printed  page  however  shed  no  light  on  Jacobs  or 
his  precious  doings,  neither  did  several  sheets  of  manu- 
script lying  underneath.  I  found  nothing  important, 
for  my  ends  nothing  at  all,  till  I  opened  the  last  pack- 
age; and  then  the  facts  so  stunned  me  I  remained 
standing  stupidly  before  the  criminal  evidences  of  my 
search. 

My  mind  looped  the  loop  around  our  entire  adven- 
ture ;  it  touched  upon  the  relations  I  had  borne  to  every 
character.  At  once  I  understood  our  craven  yearning 
toward  that  old  woman  in  the  secret  den ;  I  knew  why 
I  had  risked  my  neck  to  lug  her  to  the  open  decks.  I 
was  informed  and  nauseated.  I  lost  count  of  place  and 
time,  mentally  engulfed  in  a  hideous  nightmare.  I 
was  so  shocked  I  was  dead  to  events,  but  had  I  realized 
the  return  of  my  hosts  I  don't  believe  I'd  have  given  a 
hoot.  I  just  stood  staring  into  the  open  empty  box  till 
the  Baron's  voice  recalled  me. 

"  Ah,  Mademoiselle  has  an  interest  in  my  poor  af- 
fairs." 

He  was  on  the  threshold,  courteous  and  ironical  as 
ever,  twirling  his  long  moustache  over  an  ambiguous 
smile,  and  watching.  The  glint  in  his  gray  eyes  gave 
the  lie  to  his  nonchalance.  As  the  others  came  up  he 
added,  "  It  is  a  small  liberty  for  one  who  was  the  Bar- 
oness von  Rathgartz." 

321 


322  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

I  saw  Terry  stiffen,  resenting  the  twist  he  gave  to 
that  title,  but  the  name  itself  stung  me.  Knowing  now 
the  horror  of  the  thing  I'd  seen,  I  sprang  awake  and 
spurned  it. 

"  Don't !  Don't  ever  dare  to  call  me  Baroness ! 
That  woman  —  that  terrible  creature !  Her  crime  is 
unbelievable !  " 

"  Madame !  "  In  a  word  he  asserted  the  stern  dig- 
nity always  underlying  his  ease.  "  I  forbid  you. 
Kindly  remember  the  lady  whom  you  impersonated 
was  my  wife." 

"If  she  was  a  thousand  times  your  wife,  it  doesn't 
alter  my  opinion.  I  loathe  the  very  thought  of  her.  I 
wish  I'd  let  her  drown  like  a  rat  in  a  hole !  " 

He  raised  his  hand  imploringly.  A  smile,  yes,  posi- 
tively, a  smile  played  across  his  features ;  and  his  voice 
flowed  smoothly  as  an  oily  river. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  you  evidently  do  not  read 
Italian.  You  defame  a  woman  whose  little  shoes  you 
are  not  suitable  to  unfasten." 

I  gasped.  The  men  in  the  doorway  listened,  open- 
mouthed,  strangers  to  our  conversation.  The  old  chap 
lowered  his  finger-tips  till  they  touched  his  lips  and  blew 
a  kiss.  "  My  wife,"  he  said  again,  eyes  and  voice  ex- 
pressing the  transports  of  a  lover. 

"  Ah !  She  was  a  wonder,  that  woman  —  a  mar- 
vel! I  alone  know  —  but  I  do  know.  I  who  enjoyed 
her  youth.  Ach!  We  are  great  fools!"  He  bowed 
his  head. 

"  Those  that  ought  to  be  saved  will  be  saved,"  Duf- 
fy's voice  boomed.  "  What  in  the  name  of  all  that's 
questionable  are  you  doing  with  the  Baron's  box?  " 

Somehow  the  old  man's  attitude  made  my  action  look 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  323 

very  cheap.  "  You'll  admit  I  had  the  right  of  en- 
trance," I  cried,  defensively,  holding  up  the  key. 

With  a  sharp  intake  of  breath,  sign  of  the  most  sin- 
cere emotion  I  had  ever  seen  on  him,  the  Baron  ques- 
tioned :  "  Then  you  did  know  her?  " 

"  I  was  with  her  when  she  died  —  at  least,  I  was 
the  last  —  the  nearest.  I  was  on  the  Carbothia." 
Giving  him  time  to  recover,  I  ploughed  along.  "  She 
thrust  this  on  me  and  a  message  —  a  mixed-up  message 
—  papers,  a  box,  a  secret  —  to  hunt  —  to  destroy.  I 
suppose  she  meant  me  to  destroy  the  evidence.  But, 
my  God !  It  is  too  horrible !  —  I  ought  to  have  con- 
sulted you." 

He  had  regained  his  composure,  and  his  attitude  to 
me  had  strangely  changed.  My  connection  with  his 
dead  wife  hallowed  me.  "If  Mademoiselle  will  sit," 
he  said  deferentially,  "  I  can  tell  her  much  which  will 
be  perhaps  interesting."  So  we  sat  one  on  each  side  of 
the  table  with  my  theft  between  us,  while  the  men  drew 
near  to  listen.  Terry  had  relaxed,  seeing  the  new  set 
of  the  wind,  but  the  whole  delicate  affair  was  lost  on 
Duffy's  thick  skin.  Curiosity  alone  kept  him  from 
butting  in. 

"  Mathilda  would  not  have  wished  you  to  consult 
me,"  he  began.  "  It  will  surprise  you  to  know  I  have 
not  been  in  Schlossgartz  for  twenty  years.  There  was 
no  evidence  against  her.  She  did  what  she  did  by 
Royal  command,  but  she  was  human  and  she  regretted. 
She  wanted  the  papers  to  reassure  herself.  It  was  piti- 
ful. So  ambitious,  so  unforgiving  —  yet  the  heart 
triumphed  in  the  end.  In  extremity  she  did  not  think 
of  the  diamonds,  hidden  somewhere  and  drowned  —  a 
Government  loss.  It  does  not  matter.  She  was  bound 


324  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

to  have  hidden  them  and  make  a  mystery  of  them. 
Mystery  grew  on  her.  She  had  a  peculiar  mind  and 
a  very  unforgiving  nature.  She  never  forgave  me,  no, 
never,  and  to  the  day  of  her  natural  death  she  never 
would  have  forgiven  me,  for  that  little  affair  with 
Louise  —  that  first  affair,  almost  immediately  after  we 
were  married.  Ah!  It  was  unfortunate  that  she 
found  it  out." 

Deep  regret  breathed  in  the  words,  but  no  least  sense 
of  culpability.  He  waited  a  moment  before  continu- 
ing: 

"  We  have  in  Vienna,  as  you  are  aware,  Mademoi- 
selle, a  Government  Bureau  for  the  accumulation  of 
international  news  — " 

"  The  Secret  Service." 

"  Since  you  wish  to  name  it,  yes.  My  wife  was  a 
considerable  person  in  the  Bureau." 

"A  spy,  too!" 

Terry  shook  his  head  at  me,  but  the  old  gentleman 
took  no  notice  of  my  indiscretion. 

"  In  those  days  she  was  young,  and  beautiful  and 
clever.  Himmel !  What  a  marvel !  Her  control,  her 
readiness,  her  invention !  I  was  young,  too.  I  was  in 
the  diplomatic  service.  We  had  a  career  before  us.  I 
worshipped  her.  I  would  have  kissed  the  ground  she 
trod  on ;  and  she,  believe  me,  Mademoiselle,  she  adored 
me.  And  then  that  trifling  episode  with  Louise  — 
and  all  was  changed.  We  worked  together  for  a  while 
longer,  but  there  was  no  confidence,  it  was  not  the  same. 
Proud,  proud !  She  never  spoke  to  me  except  on  busi- 
ness, or  for  courtesy's  sake,  when  we  appeared  in  pub- 
lic. All  the  affection  once  bestowed  on  me  she  trans- 
ferred to  our  son.  She  became  the  creature  of  two  pas- 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  325 

sions  —  her  work  and  her  son.  That  is  the  sort  of 
interest  they  like  in  the  Bureau.  Outwardly  we  had 
the  world  at  our  feet.  But  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of 
things  to  run  smoothly  for  the  owners  of  Schlossgartz. 
Very  soon  her  two  great  purposes  commenced  to  inter- 
fere with  each  other.  The  boy  turned  into  a  human 
ferret.  He  was  clever,  he  was  full  of  questions.  She 
could  no  longer  have  him  about  her  business.  The 
future  balanced  on  a  sacrifice.  She  must  choose  her 
son  or  her  career.  It  was  difficult,  Mademoiselle,  be- 
cause her  strong  illuminating,  dominating  spirit  lived 
for  these  two  interests  only ;  but  in  sacrificing  her  work 
she  sacrificed  me  also,  and  doubtless  that  counted. 
You  see,  she  never  forgave. 

"  I  was  no  longer  the  husband  of  an  esteemed  and 
valuable  agent,  and  it  was,  therefore,  no  longer  neces- 
sary to  keep  me  in  prominent  positions  in  the  diplo- 
matic circle.  My  wife  retired  to  her  castle  and  made 
me  a  generous  allowance  —  I  drifted  into  the  eternal 
round  from  Switzerland  to  the  Riviera,  Paris,  Norway, 
Tyrol.  All  the  time  the  boy  was  growing  up  she  kept 
him  from  me,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  a  man  and  free,  he 
left  her.  There  is  a  rough  justice  in  things.  It  was 
then  she  commenced  to  eat  her  heart  out;  and  finally 
sought  to  return  to  her  service.  She  had  put  herself 
badly  out  of  favor  at  court  by  deserting,  but  she  was 
too  useful  still  to  be  neglected.  She  started  in  after 
twenty  years  to  make  good  her  career.  Ach,  she  was 
a  wonderful  woman,  Mathilda!  Wonderful  in  all 
ways.  I  had  her  youth,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it. 
But  it  was  a  pity  she  was  so  unforgiving.  That  little 
affair  with  Louise  —  the  petite  diable  —  and  my  wife 
so  affectionate,  so  tender,  so  true  — " 


326  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

"  Bah !  "  I  cried.  "  Don't  cant  to  me !  —  Affection- 
ate, tender,  true  —  a  woman  who  shot  her  own  son !  " 

Terry  sprang  to  his  feet ;  but  the  Baron  only  blinked 
and  stared  as  though  I  had  knocked  his  sentiment 
breathless. 

"  She  didn't,"  he  replied  presently. 

I  swept  the  papers  with  a  wide  gesture.  "  These  say 
she  did." 

"  No."     He  was  smiling  amiably. 

'  They  all  go  to  prove  it.  She  certainly  shot  Henri 
de  Grasse,  and  these  documents  prove  he  was  her  son. 
Why  here  is  her  will  — "  I  lifted  the  page.  "  You 
can't  prove  she  didn't  do  it,  unless  you  prove  Henri 
de  Grasse  von  Rathgartz  never  existed." 

I  heard  the  Terrier  chuckle.  "  Maybe  he  never  did. 
Maybe  I've  been  hypnotized  ever  since,"  I  thought 
wildly.  The  air  was  numb  with  expectation  of  the 
Austrian's  next  sentence.  He  spoke,  suavely,  enjoy- 
ing my  discomfiture : 

"  That,  Mademoiselle,  is  exactly  what  I  am  able  to 
prove  —  he  never  existed."  After  fumbling  through 
the  papers  he  handed  me  an  Italian  sheet  which  I  had 
not  been  able  to  read.  "  See,  here  is  the  nurse's  con- 
fession. A  baby  was  born  and  not  baptised,  and  an- 
other baby  was  substituted.  It  was  this  my  wife 
wanted  to  reassure  her  —  it  was  on  this  account  she 
shot  him.  After  a  quarrel  more  violent  than  the  rest 
regarding  the  young  man's  living  out  of  Schlossgartz, 
he  went  down  into  Italy,  obtained  this  confession 
witnessed  by  the  priests,  and  sent  it  to  my  Mathilda. 
Damned  puppy! 

"  Her  love  turned  to  violent  hatred.  She  had  given 
up  her  whole  life,  her  career  —  she  had  been  imposed 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  327 

upon  by  an  impostor.  The  fires  that  had  fed  two 
splendid  passions  rekindled  with  one  mighty  purpose. 
She  determined  to  avenge  herself.  From  then  there 
was  open  war  between  them.  Henri  had  worked  his 
way  up  in  the  Service ;  but  he  commenced  to  abuse  their 
secrets.  The  nurse  had  been  his  accomplice  and  had 
taught  him  her  black  arts.  He  connected  himself  with 
Lady  Deering  in  order  to  establish  a  reason  for  com- 
ing to  America.  But  he  was  not  so  clever  as  my  wife 
—  not  clever  enough  to  outwit  her.  Disguised  as  his 
principal  she  made  occasions  to  watch  him.  As  a 
grande  dame  she  insinuated  herself  into  Jacobs's  con- 
fidence." 

"  Does  Jacobs  belong  to  the  Bureau  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  exactly.  But  Samuel  Jacobs  is  a  tremendously 
wealthy  and  influential  man;  in  case  of  this  country 
ever  taking  issue  with  my  country,  his  would  be  the  in- 
fluence we  preferred  to  secure.  The  two  agents,  Henri 
and  Felix,  were  sent  to  America  to  get  something  on 
Jacobs.  He  tempted  them  with  his  thriving  side-line 
and  they  fell.  Using  our  secret  sign,  the  winged  snake, 
they  were  able  easily  and  safely  to  forward  the  dia- 
monds through  minor  agents  of  our  office.  Wrhen  my 
wife  reported  they  were  in  partnership  with  Jacobs 
and  lining  their  own  pockets,  it  was  all  up  with  them. 
We  do  not  employ  half  measures  in  the  Bureau  —  to 
the  faithful  comes  reward,  and  to  the  unfaithful  a 
swift,  sure  end.  She  begged  the  privilege  of  shooting 
Henri.  Some  other  was  instructed  in  regard  to  Felix. 
The  law  of  obedience  is  our  law  of  life.  You  know 
the  result! 

"  Begged  the  privilege  of  shooting,"  I  murmured. 
"  Affectionate  —  tender." 


328  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

" Helas,  Mademoiselle,  you  do  not  understand! 
These  charming  ladies  of  America,  whose  highest  pur- 
pose is  appearance,  make  life  a  garden  for  a  season, 
each  bud  delicious.  But  our  European  women  weld  the 
line  of  centuries.  Like  oak  trees  their  roots  are  deep 
and  strong,  their  branches  spreading,  and  their  hearts 
iron  —  and  they  are  proudly  beautiful.  You  think  my 
wife's  action  unnatural.  I  say  it  was  magnificent. 
Devastating,  hein?  But  magnificently  natural  as  an 
elect,  ic  storm.  Remember  the  Magyar  strain  —  her 
love,  her  ambition.  Remember  that  Italian  woman's 
son  had  robbed  her  of  her  whole  life  —  the  life  of 
accomplishment  —  the  life  that  counts.  Then  he  flung 
the  facts  in  Mathilda's  face,  knowing,  if  she  made  them 
public,  she  became  a  laughing  stock.  He  was  the  child 
of  our  hereditary  enemy;  his  course  a  disgrace  to  our 
name,  and  a  menace  to  our  country.  She  was  right  to 
kill  him  —  but  it  broke  her.  She  couldn't  forgive  — 
and  she  couldn't  forget  —  the  little  chap  he  used  to  be. 
She  went  to  pieces  badly  afterward,  and  Jacobs  hid  her 
in  his  own  place  and  communicated  with  me.  But  of 
course  she  would  not  have  had  me  interfere.  She  was 
great  —  great.  The  only  woman  I  ever  loved." 

He  sat  quite  silent  gazing  into  the  empty  dispatch 
box,  so  symbolic  of  his  empty  life —  following  that  lit- 
tle affair  with  Louise. 

I  placed  the  key  in  his  hand  and  folded  his  thin  fin- 
gers over  it.  A  tear  splashed  on  to  his  well  manicured 
nails. 

"  American  —  softness  —  charm  —  vanity,"  he  mur- 
mured, and  seemed  to  forget  all  about  us. 

Outside  while  Terry  changed  his  tire  Duffy  talked 
loudly  of  how  the  old  lady's  death  had  broken  the 


WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN  329 

Baron  up.  "  But  he'll  recover,  mark  my  words,  he'll 
break  the  bank  at  Monte  Carlo  yet.  Born  to  do  it  —  I 
say  so  and  I'm  never  —  ha,  ha !  Lots  of  people  have 
been  wrong  about  that,  haven't  they  ?  Ha,  ha !  " 

My  mind  whirled,  at  one  instant  I  was  von  Rath- 
gartz's  adopted  son  in  person,  the  next  I  was  giving 
a  too  familiar  name  to  a  ship's  officer.  Duffy  boomed 
unheeded. 

"Didn't  understand  half  of  his  story  —  de  Grasse 
a  pal  of  yours  I  take  it,  and  Jacobs  too  —  and  Jim 
Gower.  Say,  you  must  tell  me  all  about  this  some  other 
time  —  you're  a  regular  big  game  hunter,  Baroness !  " 
And  in  a  hurried  voice,  leaning  his  arms  on  the  car 
door  as  Terry  cranked  her. 

"  You're  a  pretty  live  wire,  my  girl,  but  not  too  bright 
for  little  Willie;  I  sized  up  the  situation  on  the  Car- 
bothia  all  right,  as  soon  as  you  mentioned  Jim  —  great 
chap  Jim  Gower,  shipped  his  wine  in  variety  and 
thought  about  drinking  it  later.  You  were  jealous  of 
the  other  skirt.  You  hugged  your  cabin.  Ha,  ha !  I 
spotted  you.  Some  time  when  you're  feeling  friendly 
call  me  at  the  factory  —  set  your  night  and  you'll  not 
lose  by  it.  I  always  know  what  I  want  —  any  line 
that's  good  enough  for  Gower  is  good  enough  for  me." 

I  had  advanced  the  spark  and  shoved  back  the  gas  as 
he  talked.  The  rattle  of  the  engine  died  suddenly  so 
that  his  last  words  fell  sharp  on  the  still  night  air. 
There  was  a  rush  from  the  front,  the  quick  impact  of 
heavy  bodies,  the  sound  of  falling  —  a  moment  later 
we  had  rounded  the  factory  corner  and  were  racing 
away  down  the  interminable  long  white  road.  Sur- 
prise gave  place  to  pride.  No  man  could  have  been 
more  gloriously  master  than  the  Terrier  in  his  punish- 


330  WITS  AND  THE  WOMAN 

ing  attack.  I  gloated.  I  cherished  a  blurred  memory 
of  his  blow ;  I  confess  to  smiling  happily  over  thought 
of  the  prostrate  Duffy. 

"  Who  was  that  damned  impertinent  fool  ?  "  my 
companion  barked  at  last,  and  didn't  listen  to  my  an- 
swer. 

Courage  sank  into  my  number  fours.  Since  I  quit 
being  a  dual  personality,  I  haven't  got  the  proper  right- 
ing spirit,  and  I  certainly  didn't  want  to  fight  with 
Terry.  How  much  had  he  heard  ?  Could  he  possibly 
misunderstand  ?  What  had  been  said  about  Gower,  the 
notorious  libertine  ?  I  racked  my  brains  to  remember. 
Silence  and  glumness  were  so  unlike  Terry.  The  mood 
looked  serious. 

On  and  on  we  sped.  Fields  changed  to  lawns  and 
houses  strung  themselves  on  either  hand,  changing 
again  to  shops.  The  regular  lights  of  the  city  streets 
floated  toward  us.  Astonished  pedestrians  turned  to 
gape  as  we  dashed  ahead  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
town.  Traffic  thickened.  Terry  eased  off  a  bit,  and 
when  our  gait  had  settled  into  a  gentle  roll  he  turned  to 
me.  As  a  manager  he  was  a  martinet.  We  all  knew 
the  set  of  his  jaw.  I  wasn't  expecting  any  bridal  bou- 
quets. I  realized  he  bulked  a  little  larger  than  any- 
thing else  on  my  horizon  and  held  my  breath  as  he 
slowed  to  the  curb.  Was  he  minded  to  sack  me  then 
and  there  ? 

"  Clarissa,"  he  said  sternly,  "  when  will  you  marry 
me  and  put  an  end  to  all  this  nonsense?  " 

"  We're  in  New  Jersey  now,"  I  merely  mentioned. 

When  I  came  up  for  air  he  roared  at  me,  "  Are  you 
ready?  "  and  I  answered : 

"Shoot!" 

THE   END 


A     000040418     6 


